


Tainted Love

by leebasii



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Manipulation, Sane Tom Riddle, Sexual Tension, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26014897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leebasii/pseuds/leebasii
Summary: 𝙏𝙤𝙢 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 wasn't an easy person, he had many secrets, very few people he could trust... if any. 𝙅𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙧 𝙂𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 - someone who knew him since First Year, and with a very complicated life herself - gets curious and tries to find out more about who he is and what he wants.It's bound to go wrong... for both Tom and Jennifer.
Relationships: Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	1. Thoughts of you

**Author's Note:**

> Tom takes the thoughts he sees in Jennifer's head to the next level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Tom Riddle will be portrayed as a sociopath, not a psychopath. I believe that (from what I've seen and read) he is capable of feeling things.
> 
> Either way, it's an accurate representation of him and what happened back then — just with a slight change: he isn't exactly alone.

> _Jennifer Garrick portrayed by Veronica Lake; Tom Riddle portrayed by Christian Coulson_

It was all smart talks and occasional smiles, rare hugs, nods, studying together, and bickering after class about who remembered more. They talked, engaged in conversations, helped the other get better grades, they were… friends. Friends who talked a lot about the small things, especially because Tom was invested in dark subjects which Jennifer didn’t dare to mention, she saw it in his eyes, the way they darkened, the way his jaw clenched, every time she mentioned something outside what they were doing. She didn’t dare to ask, she didn’t dare to be curious, they were fine, they were... friends... sort of.

“That class was so boring, the teachers are so bad at their job,” she whined, dropping the book on the table of the library.

He chuckled. “I quite liked it, straight to the point.”

She looked at Tom, who was already looking at her, “of course you, Tom Riddle, did. Less emotion there is in someone’s voice, the more it excites you.”

He wanted to roll his eyes at her statement, but simply smiled and said, “emotions hold you back. If the teacher was Mr Slughorn, he would be on chapter one still.”

“Sure, dickhead,” she mumbled underneath her breath. Their potions teacher was amazing at his job and Tom knew it, he just wanted to be right in his point: that he was an emotionless prick.

He never showed many feelings, not like he was afraid, he just didn’t feel them. And, when it came to Jennifer, it was the same way. However, occasionally when he looked at her he saw something ― he felt something, that he wasn’t used to feeling. His eyes drifted down her body, he imagined if she was like the images he saw in the books in the library, he imagined if she would be as assertive as she is when she’s with him, most importantly, how she would feel around ― unsmart and dull thoughts.

_ Did she have those thoughts too? _

Oh, she most definitely did.

Jennifer almost couldn't hold herself in front of him these days. His lips started to look more appealing and the image of what he looked like naked was hunting her mind. At night, she had to cast silencing spells to be able to touch herself as she laid in bed.

Neither of them knew how much they wanted each other ― or pretended to not know.

Tom sometimes could read her mind; she would feel it and unconsciously thought the dirtiest thoughts about him. He didn’t say anything but looked at her in a way that almost made her moan, maybe they did, but she was too turned on to notice it. Tom rarely indulged in those thoughts ― or told himself he did ― and wanted to preserve that way, he wanted to focus on his goal, which he knew that she didn't know about. She didn’t know about a lot of things,  _ right? _ And, that was the only reason why he kept her around. She was the only one who would treat him normally, go against him, doubt him, which made him stronger and better. Not that he would let the others do that… but, he knew her and knew that  _ she was intelligent, just like him and wouldn’t _ … well, he didn’t exactly know why he let her get away with contradicting him. He didn’t bother to think about it for too long, afraid ―  _ no, not that… something _ ― that it wasn’t the answer he had convinced himself of for months.

Just like him, she had too much pride to admit that she was in love ―  _ no, not that, that she liked him… _ a bit. It was a sexual thing only, that she knew about, there were a lot of teens horny ―  _ no, not Tom, he was above that _ ― just like them ―  _ her _ ― and she heard stories from her friends. She kept imagining herself with Tom in them. He, too, heard stories, more explicit and probably half of them false, and he pretended he didn’t care, but he imagined himself and Jennifer in them.

“If you think that way of teaching is so great, just become a teacher yourself, ” she suggested, biting her lip as she imagined Tom in front of the class, she as the student, him punishing her for getting a question wrong ― Tom did  **not** imagine it too when he saw her think it.

He gulped, but quickly formed a smirk and replied, “to amuse your thoughts?”

Jennifer blushed and looked down at the book she placed on the table, sitting down. “We are here to study, aren’t we? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be spending time with me, you would be with your slaves of friends,” she snapped, avoiding to look at his face that she knew had a glare in it. “So, stop looking into my thoughts,” she quickly added.

“Well, they are very interesting, I can’t help myself,” he whispered as he sat down in front of her.

She looked up at him and as she saw his face, she licked her lips. His eyes looked at them which made the blush that was fading away return. “Try harder.”

His breathing quickened and he looked behind him. Jennifer imagined him getting up, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into a corner of the library that nobody went to. He looked at her when the thoughts changed and suddenly her legs were around his waist, his lips on her neck as he pushed into her. “Are you doing that on purpose?” he asked in a deeper voice than usual.

She snapped out of her thoughts and opened the book she had grabbed. “I said stop, Riddle.”

He snorted. “You have been thinking that for one month, you should think about doing something about it.”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Not ― not with me. Just… pick a random guy, any of them will be more than willing.”

_ I don’t want a random guy _ . “I am fine, thanks.”

“Well, then stop having those thoughts, I am getting…  **tired** of them, ” he was aware of the pause he made but didn’t care.

She laughed and a rush of confidence came across her, nothing good ever happened when she felt like that. “ **Tired** ? I have another word for it.”

“Do you?” he wondered, regretting it a second after.

“Yes,” she replied and leaned back in her chair. “Some would say you liked those thoughts a lot, so much that you can’t wait to get out of that chair and make them happen, ” she waited a while to see if he would contradict her, but he just glared at her, “I bet that the only reason that you don’t get up and leave is that you’re afraid of me seeing just how…  **tired** you are.”

He adjusted himself in his seat, feeling suddenly that his trousers were tighter. “You’re… Don’t. I don’t… we aren’t doing that.”

“What makes you think that I want to have sex with you?” she asked, challenging him with a smirk.

He chuckled and mimicked her position, laying back on the chair. “Jennifer… don’t.”

She raised herself and placed her hands on the table. “Why? Are you afraid? Someone so sure in his thoughts shouldn’t be scared of answering a little question.”

He looked up at her and put his robes around his entire body, then raised himself, staying taller than her. “I know you and your tactics.”

She walked around the table, making him remove his hands from the table and turn to her. “Do you?”

“Stop,” he said, almost breathless.

She grabbed the side of his robe and pulled it to the right side, making his body more exposed. “Make me.” She placed her hand on his chest and moved it until it was on his cheek.

He grabbed her wrist and she pulled back her arm, which made her whimper because he didn’t let go of it.  _ If she wants to play dirty.. _ . “Spending time on this library has its perks sometimes…” he said as he turned her around and made her sit on his chair. He looked around before he continued speaking, “there are some books that teach just… a little more than what you see in classes.”

Suddenly she felt like something was holding her ankles against the front feet of the chair. “No.”

“Too late.” He covered his body again with the robes.

“Tom…” she warned.

“No,” he replied and she felt a soft pressure against her tight which shut her up.

“I have no idea how you manage to be such a whore sometimes,” he said lowly, “but, look so innocent.”

That pressure travelled up her tight, not stopping until it touched her pussy. “Fuck you.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” he asked.

She remembered she had hands and she could use them to get up and maybe punch Tom in the face, but when she tried to use them, she noticed that they were too tied with invisible ropes against the chair. “I…” she sighed as those ― what she now knew were fingers ― slipped between her lips and touched her clit. “Fuck.”

“Didn’t know that this would be so much fun to watch…” he admitted, trying to control the tone on his voice.

Those fingers rubbed slow small circles on her clit and made her hips push against them. “I know you want me, I ― I know you’re trying to pretend that you don’t, but ― but you wished that you were the ― touching me right now,” she stated and smiled at him when the fingers got rougher.

“I don’t,” he replied in a monotone voice.

She felt a finger press against her entrance while the other still rubbed her and then push inside her. She was wet from the thoughts she had earlier about him, and from the situation, she was in. “You ― you wished that this finger was your…” she closed her eyes from a few seconds but then opened them again, “You want to be inside me so bad, don’t you?”

He clenched his jaw. “I’m not interested in anything like that, Jennifer.”

She moaned lowly when he said her name. He probably put a silencing spell around them because he wasn’t telling her to talk lower. “You ― you keep up this facade… the unemotional one, the strong one, the ― the one with a secret little society just for himself, but ―”

He leaned in to grab her neck as he widened his eyes. “How do you ―”

“Know?” she finished, feeling another finger join the other one. She moaned and saw the way his pupils dilated and his fingers tightened. “I know more than you think, but I pretend I don’t because it’s what you want.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, dropping his hand and walking back again.

The fingers sped up and she felt herself get closer to the edge. “Don’t worry, I don’t ca ― oh, fuck, Tom.”

He moaned when he heard her moan his name. She looked up at him with an opened mouth and eyes nearly behind her eyelids. “You’re so hot,” he blurted.

“You’re ― please, please touch me,” she moaned, biting her lip.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He brought his hand to her hair and turned it around his hand, grasping it. She let out a groan when he pushed her head backwards forcibly. “You make me so hard.”

She widened her eyes ― because of his statement or because she felt herself near the edge, she didn’t know. “Tom… I’m…”

He noticed her hips starting to twitch against his magical fingers, her eyes go completely under her eyelids and her mouth drop open. From what he read those were signs of an orgasm. “Come for me, Jennifer. C’mon.”

Hearing him made her orgasm three times better. She moaned loudly and felt her walls clench against invisible fingers that she pretended were his flesh and bone ones. “Tom, fuck!”

He pushed her head far back and dropped his head to kiss the top of her lip as she moaned his name. He turned his head to press open-mouthed kisses against her neck. Being aroused made Tom press his teeth against her flesh and suck on it, creating a hickey. He pulled back and kissed her again.

As she came back from her high, her mouth closed and she kissed him back. His hand relaxed on her hair and the forces keeping her held down disappeared, just like his fingers. The imaginary ropes would probably leave marks. Before she could place her hands on his cheeks to deepen the kiss, he pulled back. They looked at each other, both breathless.

“I guess that's enough for today’s study time,” Tom said and grabbed his things before running away from her.

She couldn’t form coherent thoughts or words nor had the strength to walk after him to say that she was right. She was going to repeat those events later that night in her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will each deal with what happened? Also, what secrets are to be discovered?


	2. Choke me harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer and Tom see each other the day after: Jennifer starts questioning things she has always dismissed while he focuses on keeping her away.

Tom had been pacing around the Slytherin common room, wondering what happened and why he had let his baser urges get to him. That wasn’t behaviour he usually ― ever ― engaged in and he had no idea what came over him to magically tie her to the chair and... finger her. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, he kissed her ― he touched her, why would he do that? He could always control his thoughts and desires ― _not that he desired her_ , it was just… she made that happen, it was her fault, she provoked him on purpose.

_She was indeed a whore like he had said._

He needed to focus on better things, not a stupid girl. He stopped walking around and went to his bed… to sleep. Or maybe to recall everything that happened as he closed his eyes. He slowly fell asleep, Jennifer left his mind and it was clouded with the dream of being immortal and what _more_ he would have to do to make it happen

Jennifer, on the other hand, didn't regret what happened, didn't wonder why she had accepted his behaviour. She laid on her bed, replaying what happened in the library that day, remembering what those fingers felt like, his hand on her hair, his lips against hers, his hands on her neck even. She had to admit that she liked it, that she desired him. The only thought that hunted her was him leaving right after.

_Would she be able to confront him? To even speak to him knowing that he made her orgasm better than what she was expecting from someone who called himself a virgin..._

She probably wouldn't be able to. But, for her satisfaction, she knew that he would act like nothing had happened because that was what Tom did. He pushed her against a wall and nearly choked her for asking where he had been and why he was late for their study time and in the next fifteen minutes he was explaining how to make the potion she failed at in class.

That was Tom, and she learned to **not** question him a long time ago. 

* * *

As Jennifer walked into class she started to feel her chest tighten and breathing was becoming hard. _It was just a boy thing, it did not affect her. She was a powerful ― medium ― witch, she was more than a flustered 16-year-old girl like her classmates that drooled after Tom ― Tom was indeed very charismatic. Not for her, of course, she could handle it._

She straightened her back and kept walking, those thoughts were working.

However, as she approached Tom to sit next to him, as she always did, she felt like she was about to pass out. He looked at her as she sat down next to him while she pretended to not notice and took out her book for class.

“Hey,” Tom greeted, still looking at her. She looked at him the first time since the previous day at the library.

“Hello.” She let her eyes wander down his face to his legs and she felt herself blush as when she looked back at his face he had his eyebrows raised at her. She turned back to face the professor and pulled the sleeves to cover her hands slightly, knowing that her wrists had some light marks on them. Gladly, the robe covered the right side of her neck where her first-ever hickey laid, made by him.

“Are you ok?” he asked, staring at her.

She could feel his gaze burn her left cheek and bit her lip to let go of some of the embarrassment she felt from having looked him up and down. _Maybe that's why her cheek was burning_. “Hmhm,” she hummed in agreement, barely audible.

Tom heard her and purposely tried not to read her mind, he knew that if he did it would take them into the same spiral. He had plans that year ― 1943 ― he had things he had to _take care of_ , and plenty he had already taken care of. As he looked down at the ring on his finger he smirked and sighed, “ whatever you say, Jenny.”

She gulped at the nickname, and looked at him, he was looking down at his hand. She had never noticed that ring before, maybe he bought it on Summer break. It added to his psychopathic look, and make him even hotter. _Not for her, of course._ He looked up from his hand and saw her staring. “Never saw that before,” she said and instantly regretted it.

He looked at her with _that_ glare, the glare he gave her when she asked too many questions. She only saw him doing it for her, to the others, he would always just smile, crack a joke, even lie. Yet, to her, he showed his worst self ― _his true self, maybe._ “Never wore it before,” he responded, daring her to ask more questions.

 _Did he like that? Did he like to make her step his neat established line? The line no one ever crossed._ “It's ― it looks good on you.”

His expression changed from a glare to a smile. “It's what I truly am,” he muttered before starting to pay attention to the class.

She didn't know what he meant by that, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. They didn't speak again during the entire lesson.

When it was over, Tom gathered his things quickly and started pacing away. She tried to put all her stuff into her bag as quickly as him and ran after him. He was already far down the hallway when she left class. “Tom!” she called, running after him.

He slowed down, showing that he had heard her, but didn't stop walking.

When she caught up with him she was breathless and could barely remember what she was about to say. “You're ― shit ― you're fast...”

He didn't bother to look at her. “Go straight to the point.”

She looked down as she tried to remember what exactly she wanted to ask. “I... Where are you going at this pace?”

“The library. Why do you ask, mum?” he joked with a straight face.

Jennifer wasn't sure that she should laugh. She never heard about his mum, it wasn't like he would tell her, anyway. “At this pace?”

Suddenly, he stopped walking and grabbed her shoulders in a light grip. He glared at her, “yes. Any more questions?” He looked behind her and his entire expression dropped ― he saw Dumbledore. “Fucking ― ” he whispered as he looked at him. 

She pushed Tom's hands out of her shoulders and looked behind her. “Why's he staring at you?” she asked. She widened her eyes when he grabbed her wrist and started walking again, she nearly fell over but managed to keep up with his pace. “I always wished to have a broken wrist, thanks,” she said with a fake smile.

When they reached the library Tom let go of her wrist and faced her. “He has been... following me. I ― I'm not sure I can tell you why ― well, I cannot and you're not gonna ask about it... got it?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why has he been following you?” Tom rolled his eyes and entered the library. “What did you do?” She followed him in and walked with him towards the back of it.

“Sometimes I want to throw you off a window,” he started. He meant that, when he had something important to do, she followed him asking way too many questions. _Maybe he should get rid of her. Why hadn't he yet?_

“Always so nice,” she murmured and rolled her eyes.

He looked over his shoulder to glare at her. “Sorry, I meant, all the time.”

Jennifer gasped. She wasn't even thinking about what happened the day before, maybe it meant nothing, _of course, it meant nothing_. _Why would it ever mean anything? They were teens._ **_Nothing really meant anything_ **_besides hormones acting crazy. Sometimes she thought that Tom didn't feel the same as the others, but the day before proved her that he did._

“Control your thoughts,” he said and turned on an isle, looking for a book.

She bit the inside of her lip and leaned back on a bookshelf across him. “What are you looking for?”

He turned to look at the other line of bookshelves in the isle after a few seconds of trying to _accio_ a book on the one he was sure the book was on. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

_He's so handsome._

“I am aware,” he murmured, still trying to _accio_ some book.

“Didn't work the first time, it's not going to work the second,” he looked at her to shoot her a warning glare and she hung her head to avoid it, “... nor the third...” she continued when he did it again, “nor the fourth.” She heard him groan so she raised her head to look at him.

Tom looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. It was as if he was using her to think.

“I don't know if you want to _crucio_ me or ask me for help.”

He raised his head to look at her directly in the eyes and raised one eyebrow. “Are you volunteering?”

“For which?” she asked, stupidly.

He took one step closer to her. “Somebody took a book that I need.”

She looked around. “This is the library. It will come back, eventually.”

He took another step, staying a few centimetres away from her. “I need it now, before ― I need it.” He leaned his left side on the bookshelf she was on.

She turned to the side to face him. “Do I look like a librarian?”

Tom ran his tongue through his teeth. “You see... you're **the one** I most trust to get it for me. I have read it already, but I still have a few questions about it, and I'm ― I need to read it again, Jenny,” he raised his right hand to brush his perfectly cut nails slightly against her left cheek, making her shiver and hold her breath for a few seconds. “Do you understand?”

She glanced at his hand and shifted from one foot to the other. “What's it about?”

His hand dropped slightly to brush against her arm and then grasp her wrist. “You wouldn't understand.”

Jennifer leaned her head to whisper, “try me.” 

He blinked rapidly, forcing his mind to focus on what he was doing. “Some dark arts thing, you know, spells they don't teach,” he replied, shrugging.

Jennifer bent her hand back to make him lose a grip on her wrist and to grab his. She walked closer to him, leaning her back on the bookshelf as she did, then pushed him so that he would be in front of her. “Can I read it if I get it?”

He placed his left hand next to her head and leaned back a bit. He could smell her perfume _. It did not affect him the slightest._ “If death is your wish,” he whispered, keeping his gaze on her eyes.

“Hmm.” She let go of his wrist and bit her lower lip discreetly. “I see. Can't blame someone else again, you know,” he widened his eyes for a second, but then gave her his plain face, “I will probably tell someone that it would be you if it happened.”

“I never killed anyone, Jenny,” he replied easily, dropping his eyes to her lips.

She licked her lips instinctively. “That, and I have completely fallen for your seducing tactics, and am about to look for a book that will get me in trouble.”

He clenched his jaw. “I was merely suggesting.”

She leaned in his ear to say, “the only reason you did what you did to me yesterday was that I was tied up,” she leaned back, “just to clarify.”

His right hand grabbed her arm and he pushed her harder against the bookshelf. “Are you sure?”

“Wanna do it for real?” she asked and smirked at him. 

Tom wrinkled his nose in disgust and pushed his body against hers. “Want to look for that book? I've got other people to do it if you say no, Jennifer.”

“Then ask your servants, not me, _Tom_ ,” she replied pushing against the hand holding her arm.

“How do you know?” he inquired, trying to ignore the way that name rolled off her tongue so effortlessly. It was just his name, but it reminded him... it told him that he wasn't as pure as he thought.

She tilted her head to the side. “About what?”

“You know what,” he said.

“I have no idea wha ―” He let go of her arm to grab her neck, cutting her off. She chuckled. “What are you gonna do? Choke me to death on a library?”

“Answer me,” he persisted.

“You can lie to them, but you can't lie to me, Tom,” she asserted with a smile.

His eyes drifted to his hand on her neck. How dare she imply that she knew him ― as if anyone had the ability to understand him, to be at the same level as him, to escape his ―

“Choke me harder, I know you want to,” she mocked, interrupting his thoughts.

He complied, making her gasp and leaned in close to her face. “If you tell anyone ―”

“Are you confirming you killed her?” she wondered, raising her eyebrows.

Tom clenched his jaw. “I was talking about the book.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “Yes... you were. And, I won't tell anyone... like I never do.” 

He stepped away from her, letting go of her. “Stay away from me, it won't end well.”

“You pushed me along with you,” she stated.

He shook his head. “He was going to ask questions.” 

_Dumbledore. She had forgotten about him. If he was following Tom it was because he suspected something. She should talk to him, figure out what he knew, she was tired of Riddle dismissing her when she was right._

Before she could be noisy again, he had run away, probably going to enjoy the last few minutes he had before dinner, where she would be seeing him.

Sometimes she wished to not have been sorted into Slytherin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Tom successfully keep Jennifer away and will Jennifer ask Dumbledore the right questions about Tom?


	3. Hanging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer talks with Dumbledore and sees something that gets her suspicious.

Jennifer waited until the Transfiguration class finished and walked towards Mr Dulmbedore. She took a deep breath in and out, mastering a bit of confidence that she knows makes talking to Tom easier. He looked at her as she arrived at his desk, furrowing his eyebrows. “Miss Garrick,” he acknowledged as she paused in front of him. She never really talked to professors, only managed to get one of the best grades with tests and answering questions in class, but never had she approached him after class. 

“Hm, hello, I... I need to talk to you,” she faltered as she tried to straighten her posture more, which was impossible, she hardly looked like a broomstick.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “About class?”

She shook her head and looked down at his desk. “Not ― no, no, about ― about someone,” she forced herself to raise her chin and look at him in the eyes, they were slightly squinted, “someone we both know... quite well.”

Everyone had left class already, but the door was still open. He pulled out his wand and closed the door, making her jolt back a bit. “Sorry.”

She smiled at him, telling him it was ok. “It's about... T ― Tom said that you were following him and,” she noticed him drifting his eyes to his desk as he placed a fist against his lips, “and,” she continued, “I need to know why.” When he didn't reply, she continued talking, the quiver disappearing from her voice, “he has been acting weird, weirder than usual and... I — I thought you might know why?”

Dumbledore looked at her again, making her gulp. “Would you consider yourself a good friend of Mr Riddle?”

Jennifer widened her eyes and chuckled awkwardly at his question. She wasn't expecting it at that moment. “I'm ― we're,” she shook her head as she crossed her arms, “we talk, I guess.”

“He doesn't seem like a very people person.”

She snorted at his affirmation. “Unless they're worshipping him, not really... no.”

“Do you ― as you put it ― worship him?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

She looked at him again, having looked away at some point. “Not at all.” _He was asking too many questions._

He nodded. “Then, why do I see you together with him. What does he want from you? Are you apart of something you can't get off of? Why are you here if you are friends?”

Jennifer felt confused by his accusations. “I ― no, I'm just ― I don't ― we don't ― I don't know.”

Albus sighed. “There's a lot Tom isn't telling you, Miss.”

_Tom. Tom. Tom._

“And, I am sure that if you ask, we will tell you. I have nothing to do with it. I apologize.”

_He won't._

“And... if he doesn't I can't tell you either. It's not my business to expose my students' lives to their... girlfriends.”

She gasped and widened her eyes. “I am definitely not his girlfriend. But, I am sorry for... I thought you'd be ―” She looked at him and he had a calm expression. “Teachers are never helpful, are they? If something happens, don't blame me.” 

Before he could ask about what she meant, she was walking away from the classroom.

“Miss ― ”

As she walked down the hallway she ran her hands through her blonde curls, making it messier.

 _Fuck Dumbledore_.

When she turned the hallway again she saw Tom, talking to Lestrange about something. She stepped back and hid in the corner.

“I said, that I did not give the slightest fuck if an older girl asked you out, just do what I told you to do. Find the book.” Tom was whisper-yelling at him, but she could see that his jaw was clenched and that he had a wand pointed at him.

“It's not just a random girl...” he mumbled, lowering his eyes to the wand pointing at him.

_He wanted to die, for sure._

Riddle faked a laugh. “Who is she?”

Lestrange gulped and shook his head. “Walburga.”

Tom widened his eyes and laughed at him. “As if you have a chance. I heard she was into some... her cousin or whoever.”

 _Not really her cousin_. 

“She asked **me** out.”

“And? You are going to not show up to that meaningless date, and look for the book I asked you,” Riddle replied, raising his wand, “you know, maybe... all you need is a little **motivation**.”

He widened his eyes and pressed himself closer to the wall. “No, I don't. I will, I promise, my Lord, I will get it.”

She cringed at the name he had called Tom.

“Too bad I don't care,” Tom whispered.

Jennifer gasped when Lestrange leaned his head back with an open mouth as his eyes turned back on his head. He had crucio―ed him and was inside his head. She took the opportunity to run past them towards the Slytherin common room.

* * *

She sat down on a sofa at the common room, trying to process what happened that day. Professor Dumbledore had asked questions ― too many ― and she didn't get any answers for herself while he might have gotten them for himself. Whatever that it was that he wanted, she felt suspicious, _what did he have on Tom and why did he seem to not care_ ? Furthermore, when she left she saw Tom ― not Tom, **him,** the mean, angry boy who was looking for who knows what. _My Lord._ Who would want someone to call them that, for her, it seemed weird and she reminded herself to never stay and listen to him as he talked to his ' _friends '._

Interrupting her thoughtfulness moment, someone came in. _Tom_. He looked tired, his face was relaxed, his sleeves rolled up a bit. He looked at her and when he did he stopped on his tracks, standing there.

_Had he noticed her before in the hallway?_

He seemed peaceful. “Why aren't you at dinner?”

She got up from her seat and slowly walked towards him, he turned his body fully to face hers. “Why aren't _you_?”

“I'm sure ―”

“You're bleeding.” When she approached him, she noticed cuts on the left side of his neck and his arms.

He put his hands on his pockets and shrugged. “I had something to take care of. You?”

She raised her right hand to tilt his chin to look better at the cuts on his neck, but before she could he grabbed her wrist in mid-air. “What happened?”

He dropped her wrist and muttered, “don't touch me.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Don't make me.”

Tom licked his lips and lowered his eyes to the floor. “What do you want, Jennifer?”

She blinked at him and opened her mouth. _I don't know._ “What do you mean?”

He looked back at her in the eyes. “What do you want from me?”

She could feel it, he was in her head. She tried to push important thoughts away and focused on answering him. _I don't understand you. You're different._

“I'm not.”

_You are and I know you want something from me too, but you aren't getting it. Or you are and I just don't know._

He glared at her. “Well... maybe,” he grabbed her wrist and turned her around to pin her against the wall, “if you stopped following me and listening to conversations you aren't supposed to,” she widened her eyes, “I wouldn't have to talk to you again.” He leaned his head closer to hers and let go of her wrist.

“I've been staying away from you,” she admitted.

“You,” he laughed to himself, “ ― you are the one going after me and I've told you to stop it or ― because something might happen to you if you continue.”

She shook her head. “It wasn't on purpose.”

He scoffed in disbelief.

“And, you didn't have to... to do what you did.”

“Don't make me have to do the same to you,” he threatened, placing a hand next to her head, “I'd say I don't want to, but you look nice with a frightened little face.”

She gave him a fake smile. “Then, do it.”

He chuckled. “You're not very discreet and I have a reputation to keep, Jennifer.”

She grasped his robes with both hands and pulled him closer, making him stumble forward. “I can keep a few secrets, Tom.”

“Can you now?” he asked mockingly.

“Haven't told anyone that you got hard for me.”

He glanced at her lips for a second and then looked at her in the eyes. “You'd be better off dead.”

She laughed at his statement. “You sure know how to seduce a girl.” She saw the corners of his lips turn up a bit.

“You'd know,” he mocked.

“You have many to practice on.”

“I'm more interested in school,” he replied.

Jennifer puffed and let her hands go up to his shoulders. “Don't you get tired?”

He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of pretending.”

His eyebrow dropped and he pulled away from her. “Pretending what?”

She bit her lip in a very obvious way. “That you're such a good boy ― the perfect boy,” she leaned away from the wall and placed both hands on his shoulders, “aren't you tired of sucking the teachers ―” instead of finishing the sentence she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“I am not pretending anything. I am just... making sure I'm the best.” He let himself be pushed back until the back of his knees hit the bigger sofa of the _common_ room.

“Then you're just pretending to be the best?” she questioned, pushing him so that he would sit down.

He laughed at her. “What are you trying to say?”

Jennifer smiled back at him. “Well... you see,” she placed her knee next to the outside of his left one, “I think you're so obsessed with the idea of being the best that you end up,” she placed her other knee on the other side, he looked up at her, “you end up being so uptight.”

“Stop.”

She raised her eyebrows at him and dropped herself on his lap, her knees touching the back of the couch. “Stop what exactly?”

His sighed. “I'm not uptight and I don't need to loosen up, especially not with you.”

Jennifer opened his robes and placed her hands on his chest. “Well, you do have a line of girls waiting for you to notice them.”

“Again?” He closed his hands into fists as they pressed into the sofa. “I don't care about any of them.”

She pressed harder against his hips making them both groan. “Such a good boy you are... nice, smiley, ass kisser, with the greatest grades...” she rolled her hips again and his hard-on touched her clit, she had a skirt on and tights, but she could feel it enough so that it made her pussy tingle.

His hands went to her hips and made her move against him again.

“Look who's participating.”

He bent his head so that it laid on the side of her neck.

“I ― I thought you didn't need to loosen up with me,” she breathed out, licking her lips.

“I'm — ” His hands dig harder against her hips and she felt him raise his hips to meet hers. “I felt sorry for you.”

“I doubt that,” she said, digging her fingers on his shoulders.

His thrust picked up their pace and she started to grind down on him harder. He pulled back from her neck to look at her face, she opened her eyes and their eyes met. “You mean nothing,” he muttered lowly.

She moaned, “you too.”

“This means nothing,” he quickly said, moaning afterwards.

Jennifer bit down on her lip. “Tom.”

“Yes?” he asked, opening his mouth in pleasure.

“Is Lestrange ok?” she asked.

He furrowed his eyebrows but kept going. “He's... he's in the ho ― o ― spital” 

“Just for that book...” she muttered.

“It's important,” he told.

“What's it about?” she asked gripping his shirt between her fingers, getting closer to the edge. She regretted having asked that when she saw the way his eyes widened and mouth closed. His hand went to her hair and he twirled it around his hand, making her yelp in pain, but his hips didn't stop moving against hers.

“Did you think that would work?” he asked, pushing her head back.

“Tom,” she mumbled.

“Is that the reason why ― why you did this?”

She laughed at his glare. “Why else wo ― would I?”

“Fuck you,” he cursed, leaning in to kiss her neck.

When his tongue touched her throat and he started to suck a mark in her skin she arched her back and felt her walls start to flutter. “I'm ― Tom.” She was sure she looked like a dog humping him already. She was so close to the edge, a few more rolls of her hips and she would come. Then, he grabbed her hips and pulled them away from his, stopping himself from coming as well. “Fuck...” she whispered.

He pulled away from her neck and looked at her with a smirk. “Did you orgasm?” he asked, not actually sure if what he did stopped her from coming.

Her face went from pleasure-filled to glaring. “You're a dickhead.” She could still feel her walls clenching around nothing, but not the way she was expecting.

He laughed at her, getting his confirmation. “Do it again and I will torture you for real.”

She got up from his lap and straightened her clothes. “That was completely unnecessary.”

“You did it to yourself.”

“Leave me alone,” she spitted out.

“If you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone as well,” he asserted.

“You're a jerk,” she insulted, but it was like hitting on a rock, you came out the one with wounds.

“You seem to be the only what who thinks that,” he let out.

“You know what?” she said as he got up, putting his robes to cover his erection. “Maybe the girls will leave you alone if they know you'd leave them unsatisfied.”

He looked at her with a calm expression. “I am not interested in them.”

“But, them thinking you're the perfect man makes your reputation be what it is. If they stop thinking that...” She ran her fingers through her hair to try to comb it.

Tom nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe that way they'll know you're a whore who throws herself at guys.”

She gasped and looked at him as he left the common room to go to the guy's room. _Because being with one guy made her a whore._

She had missed dinner time already, but she wasn't really **hungry** for food either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom's worse than what he seems. Will Jennifer finally realize that and step back? Or is this a spiral that goes into inevitable endings.


	4. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into how Tom and Jennifer met, and how much they actually changed after 6 years.

**1st September 1938, _First Year_**

Jennifer sat neatly at the table where no one was on as she looked to the kids around her. It had been a busy day. Her parents told her to behave, to not talk back, respect them in any situation even if they're wrong. Basically, to act as if the teachers were her parents. Which she nodded at and faked a smile. Her father leaned in to kiss her in the forehead, but her mom put an arm in front of him and said something that she will never forget.

“She's growing up, Hurbert, she needs to learn to be more logical and not fall for others affections, it's she who truly matters.” 

She didn't want to make a scene like the other parents. She didn't. Her dad didn't either, he nodded at his wife and smiled softly at his daughter. Margeret, her mom, look around to find parents she knew and chat while her dad waited with her until the train arrived. They didn't speak until he had to say goodbye and direction her towards the train. The last time she saw him for the next months was when he was waving at her, peacefully and with a smile. 

She had been quiet all ride. Said hello to kids that greeted her. Every kid was behaving so hyperactively. She wasn't used to being with other with kids, she was an only child and her parents were on their 40s already. Her cousins were at least 10 years older. Her mom told her to be nice and act smart, she wanted her to stand out, but not too much, just to continue the legacy of the Garrick's name. It wasn't even her mother's name, but she loved it, married her father for it.

As she observed everyone, one kid stood out for her, one that wasn't making a big deal out of anything, he simply stood there, looking at everyone. She thought that maybe his parents told him to behave too. He caught her staring and shot her a glare that made her gasp. _That wasn't very nice._

She got out of her chair haughtily and walked towards him. “Excuse me, but why did you look at me like that.”

Her voice annoyed him, it was high―pitched and girly. He thought about torturing her, but he didn't want to cause chaos. Maybe he could break her arm when they were alone in the school or put a spider in her food. 

“It's disrespectful to not answer back,” she stated, straightening herself.

“You look posh,” he replied, looking away from her to the empty seat in front of him.

She gasped and took the seat he was looking at. “Your parents must spank you every day.”

“Do yours?” he queried, raising an eyebrow.

Jennifer looked down as she tried to blink away the memories he caused. “Don't parents do it to all kids?” she wondered. Her mom did more than spank her, she used magic to torture her, make her relieve dreams and made her live them in detail. It always left her crying and in her dad's arms.

He shrugged. “I suppose.” 

She sighed. “I'm Jennifer Garrick,” she introduced, “my parents call me Jenny.”

He hummed in agreement. “I'm Tom Riddle, my ― people call me Tom.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Nice name. Riddle sounds funny. Tell me a riddle, Riddle.” 

He looked at her with darker eyes than before. “Sure.”

Her mom told her to not make jokes, _they weren't necessary, they were stupid, just like her._

“I'm probably getting into Slytherin, my family has been there for generations.” She leaned back on the seat and smiled at him.

Tom hummed again. “Good for you.”

“It is, you see, Purebloods are known for getting into Slytherin,” Tom looked at her in interest, “they're the best... cunning, ambitious ― better than stupid **Muggle-born** kids, those are a threat for the world ― that's what my mom always says, she's probably right ― it makes sense. Why would those unusual creatures even acquire magical powers? Stupid.”

“Sure.”

Her mother always spoke about how **Purebloods** were the only real witches and wizards, the good ones. She said their world was infested with **Mudbloods** who shouldn't even exist in the first place. She wasn't sure she agreed, she didn't have much say really, and it sounded good enough to make her seem right. Jennifer just imagined that Mudbloods were different, they probably knew nothing about manners, were dumber ― worthies of going to Hufflepuff ― her cousin, Wanda, had said they weren't bad, but her mother quickly changed Jennifer's mind.

Jennifer raised her hand to put her hair behind her shoulder but remembered it was shorter. “Do you like my hair?”

He looked at her hair and wasn't sure what to say, she had short blonde hair with nearly perfect waves that stopped at her shoulders. _How did people evaluate hair?_ “Looks nice.”

“My mother cut it, she said it would make me look more... ladylike,” she told, “I think that's stupid.”

He never thought he would be talking about hair. “Well, you can always grow it for the next months, maybe she'll like it when you come back.”

She nodded. “I'm sure she will just force me to cut it again.”

He really wanted to traumatize her, she sounded so nice, girly and innocent. He loved to torture people who bothered him. “Sure.”

She looked out the window again to enjoy the view. As she did Tom noticed a dark mark on her neck, a few, they looked like fingers. _Had someone choked her?_

* * *

**2nd January 1944, _Sixth Year_**

Tom had gotten the book he wanted: Secrets of the Darkest Art. He read it all again, memorized it even, but nothing said anything about making 7, which was his goal. He had made one already ― the diary ― and was looking forward to making another one with the ring he got from... that **thing**. 

He was going to ask the professor who he knew would give him the answer with the right words. Horace Slughorn. He considered him the perfect student, glorified him, he was sure that he would have no problems in answering a simple question ― as is persuasion skills were magnificent. He barely had to try.

The only person who didn't fall for them was Jennifer. She always had something to say back, always knew the right ways to make him believe she was falling for it, then she struck back. He would eve dare to say that she was the smartest person he had ever met if he didn't know himself. The stunt she pulled made him worried of what she might get from him if he gets too... distracted. It was a shame he had to stop it when he did, he hated getting boners and having to take care of them.

He had no idea why the other boys liked it so much. He would never understand the others. It was good enough that a few liked him ― his _followers_ , they would do **anything** for him and that thought alone felt better than any masturbation session ever. The thought that he was so close ― and, yet so far ― made his hairs stand up, _he loved it._

Just as he was thinking of her, she appeared, sitting down in front of him at the table of the train. “I told you ―” he started.

“I know what you told me, Tom. I didn't come here to talk,” she assured, avoiding his eyes. 

“Then, what?” he asked. He hadn't heard her talk like that in a long time, so high―pitched.

Jennifer gulped and fidged with her fingers. “It's my mum.”

He laughed at her. “What? Are you thinking about her? Because I don't care, Jenny. I only ― ”

“I know!” she yelled, making a few people look at her that were on the other tables. She lowered her voice and said, “I know that you only hugged me that day because you wanted me to stop crying and seeing people cry makes you...”

“Want to kill them?” he offered.

“What doesn't make you want to kill people?” she asked rhetorically.

He shrugged. “You want me to...”

“I don't want hugs, I ― I just ― it hurts, Tom.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What hurts?”

Jennifer licked her lips. “Can I just show you?”

He rolled his eyes understanding what she meant. “You can just make it disappear with magic I don't ―”

“I can't,” she said, her voice quivering a bit.

Tom shook his head confused. “You're a great witch of co―”

“No, Tom, I can't.” She cleared her throat. “I can't reach it and ― and I don't wanna show it to a professor, it's really bad. I can't make an excuse for it.”

He was still looking at her with a hesitant expression.

“No one knows these types of spells as well as you. I might end up... more injured or ― or worse.”

“Well, Winter break wasn't great for you,” he stated.

She nodded. “It never is, Tom.”

Tom got up. “Follow me.” She followed him. He entered the train's small bathroom and then turned to look at her.

She took off her robes, still not looking him in the eyes for more than 2 seconds and handing them to him. Then, she started opening her shirt. 

“It better be a big nasty bruise,” Tom said, grabbing her robes to put them behind her in the sink.

She whimpered when she tried to pull her arms out of her shirt. He bit his lower lip when he saw that she didn't have a bra on. “It hurt too much to put on a bra,” she explained, turning around to show him the bruise that went across her back, putting the shirt on the sink in front of her.

He could see her on the mirror, but it stopped at her upper chest. “It's ok.”

She leaned forward with a grunt, placing her hands on the sides of the sink.

“How do you let her do this?” he asked as his fingertips traced the bruise that was nearly black.

“I have no choice,” she said, her breath quickening. “I never do. Especially now that my father is dead.”

Tom sighed and pressed against the bruise a bit, making her jolt forwards, her hips digging on the sink. “I'm sorry.”

She laughed, knowing he didn't mean for pressing against it, “you'd pro ― probably do wo ―worse.”

 _He would have to be out of his mind to hurt her like that._ “What did you do?” he asked, pulling his hand back.

“Which time?” she asked, her eyes watering.

“All.”

“Well, I... I mentioned my dad and she got mad so she grabbed her wand and pushed me across the room. The second time, it was because she found out that I didn't have any female friends she could ask their parents over for lunch. And ― and that one was because I said that I wanted to keep her my hair long. She ― she always asks me if I that if because I'm 17 already she isn't my mother anymore.”

“Fucking bitch.”

She chuckled, feeling a warm tear slide down her cheek.

Tom looked at her eyes in the mirror. “You can cry.”

She shook her head. “Just heal it, Tom.”

He nodded and grabbed his wand. She heard him say the spell she used on the bruises she could easily reach.

She gasped when he pulled back. “Is it done?” 

He nodded and met her eyes in the mirror. “Is there more?”

Jennifer straightened her back, able to do it without feeling a sharp pain again. “Yes, but they're minimal, I didn't ―”

“Where?”

“Do you want me to get naked for you?” she joked, laughing it off.

Tom brushed the hair that covered her right shoulder and pressed a kiss on it. He didn't know why he did it, but he didn't regret it either. “Will you?”

Jennifer felt something on her lower stomach that made her gasp. She wasn't expecting his answer. “No?”

He watched her eyes close as he touched her bare waist. “Jennifer...”

She pressed her back against his chest, his hand moving to her belly. “I...”

“Yes?” he asked as his thumb brushed against her nipple.

She felt a moan form on her throat but held it. _Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone._

He pressed another kiss on her shoulder and she snapped her eyes open.

“Stop.”

He froze behind her.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

He snorted. “You came to ―”

“Unless you wanna confess that you miss me, stop touching me.”

He would never say that, even if it was the truth. He was surrounded by idiots, people who treated him like he was the most powerful person ever, but they were idiots. Jennifer wasn't at their level and he... liked that somehow. But, telling her that? Since when had he talked about his feelings. _Since when did anyone want him to._

“Tom...” she said in a warning tone.

He pulled back, raising his hands in the air. “Wasn't doing it for myself either...” he mumbled, opening the door and leaving.

She closed the door, remembering she was half-naked. She looked at herself in the mirror, letting a tear fall down. _Why did she ever approach him in the First Year? She felt dumb, played with, like another slave of Tom's. He never cared about anything, about anyone, he kept her around for_ **him** , for his satisfaction, because he felt smarter when she was around. She was a dumb girl, acting like the other girls who tried to ask him out but to no avail. Was she getting manipulated by him? She couldn't tell, and that scared her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things felt tenser... for both. For how long could Tom pretend that he didn't want Jennifer?


	5. Restricted Section

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer has new friends, ones Tom isn't very fond of. Also, another look into the start of their... friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Violence and verbal/emotional abuse in this chapter.

No, it wasn't alright. It was beyond that. So beyond that, it turned bad ― awful even. Tom got the answer he wanted from Mr Slughorn, and did another Horcrux: they were two by then. He was getting what he wanted, he was succeeding and nothing was stopping him. The only person who slowed him down wasn't talking to him anymore, he would put up with one more and half year and then he would be out Hogwarts ― not that he hated it there, the complete opposite, he **loved** being there. He **loved** learning, he **loved** people praising him for being the best, he **loved** the way everything was turning out. However, he was bored. Terrifically bored. His days were the same, school, talking down to his servants ― friends ― and then going to sleep. He wanted more ― he was actually considering being a teacher, a joke Jennifer had made.

Jennifer had stayed away from him before ― when he said that if she stayed away he would too, it lasted a few months until Winter break ― and he wasn't bored then, _so it wasn't related to her. Nothing was ever related to her._ But... it was, somehow. He hated seeing her with the new fake friends she made, the ones she always talked shit about to him until he glared at her and said that _he didn't care. He never did, when it came to her, he never did._

He understood jealousy, he totally did, but that wasn't the case. He was not jealous, _how could he be jealous of someone he didn't care about?_ It was all about him seeing that she was pretending, it looked bad on her ― it reminded him how she used to be, the fancy little girl that told him to sit up straight, to eat properly and not utter a word while he did so. He was glad that she slowly stopped being like that ― stopped following her mother's _rules_. Not **totally** ― she still had some mannerisms that he was sure came from her mother. He didn't even know why he was her... friend for all those years ― he always had a plan to hurt her, he managed to, but it never ended with the result he hoped. She never got truly scared of him like the other kids in the orphanage did. It annoyed him that she wasn't afraid of him, or at least never seemed to be.

The thought of it made him roll his eyes and place his fork and knife down.

“You've never been on a date?” Felicity Ainsworth, one of the girls Jenny started hanging out with, asked. Felicity was a generally happy girl, that was always talking about dates, about who was with who, it irked him.

He eavesdropped on the conversation as he started grabbing dessert.

Jennifer chuckled at the brunette's question. “No... I ―” she looked to her right and saw Tom looking at her, he didn't look away, but she did, “hm, I ― no. I was never really into anyone.” 

Alta Alcott rolled her eyes. “I don't believe that. Every girl has had at least had one date, even if she didn't know it was one.” Alta was very self-centred, she always said what she thought ― it was as if she didn't know what thinking was.

Jenny continued moving the food with her fork, not being able to eat. Her stomach had all kinds of butterflies flying around. “We ― well, I never really ― ” she looked up at them, “I don't talk to many boys. Not interest either...”

Felicity elbowed Alta who was next to her. “Told you she was a freak.”

Tom knew exactly what Ainsworth meant by that and looked away from them to start eating the dessert. _He didn't have to bother with slow-minded people, it wasn't his duty._

“What ― what do you mean?” Jennifer asked, smiling at them.

Alta and Felicity looked at each other and laughed. Alta cleared her throat and said, “well, I guess I'll just have to be careful to not undress in front of you.”

Jennifer widened her eyes and gasped. “What? I'm ―”

“It's fine,” Felicity replied, eyeing Jennifer up and down.

“Not exactly fine...” Alta mumbled, “but everyone considers it normal. My mom is a Muggle and she would hate if I became... _that_.”

 _Tom hated Muggles._ If that wasn't obvious already.

“You can't beco ―” Jennifer straightened her back and chuckled, “nobody cares really.”

Alta widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows. “They should.”

Felicity shrugged.

“I'm not ― I ― I like boys,” Jennifer replied through gritted teeth.

Felicity leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. “It's impossible that you've never liked any then.”

“What about...” Alta glanced at Tom, motioning Jennifer with her eyes. 

She shook her head immediately. “We ― no. We were... I had nobody else, really.”

Alta snorted. “You're a Garrick, you can have anyone you want.”

“Yeah, I ― I,” she laughed it off.

Tom looked at them. Alta was still stealing glances at him. He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Alta shrugged and looked back at Jennifer. “Riddle is a handsome man, it's hard to think you guys never did anything.”

Jennifer could feel her heart on her mouth, “it's not like he would,” Tom looked at her, “e― ever take a step forward and a ― ask me out, anyway.” He wouldn't ask, but she wouldn't say yes if he did either, and they both knew that.

He hated that she was using him to look good in front of her new “ _friends_ ”. Tom rolled his eyes and bit his lower lip.

Felicity chuckled. “Still, you were together a lot. If he didn't ask, he must have dropped hints. No way a boy and girl hung out so much and don't start dating or something.”

“What do you know about hanging out with boys, anyway,” Tom replied, entering the conversation. “Haven't seen you with anyone besides your brother,” he raised his eyebrows and leaned in, closer to them, “unless you are more than siblings...”

She gasped. “What do you know about girls? You're always with your weird friends who don't have eyes for anyone besides you.”

Alta laughed. “The boys' dormitory must be a disgusting place.”

He gave her a fake smile. “Bet that you'd love to be there.”

Jennifer felt awkward there. She forgot how to speak, all she could do was look at them as they shout insults at each other. _Was Tom defending her? No, of course not. He was defending_ **himself**.

Alta put her fork and knife down, leaving a large amount of food on the plate. “It's time for us to go.”

Felicity let go of the dessert she was about to grab as if it had burned her. “Right. Let's go, Jennifer.”

The girls got up while Jennifer's shaky hands struggled to put the knife and fork parallel to each other on the plate. When she raised her head she saw Tom looking at her. “Wh ― what?”

Alta started walking away and Felicity looked at Jennifer, motioning her to come with her hand. Jennifer got to her feet and when she did she had to put her hand on the table to steady herself, she was about to fall. 

“Out of everyone ― ” Tom mumbled.

“Would you prefer it was you?” she asked and then ran to catch up with the other girls, not waiting for his answer.

He sighed and turned to Avery who was rushing to finish his homework before next class started, along with Lestrange. Jennifer seemed so confident when she was with him, he had no idea why she wasn't with the others. 

* * *

**18th November 1938, _First Year_**

Jennifer sat down on the sofa next to Tom at the Slytherin common room, licking her lips. “Tomorrow is my birthday,” she told Tom.

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. She'd be happy on her birthday, so he could ruin the fun and she'd stop bothering him. It had been 2 months and she always came to sit next to him and started conversations, he had no idea why. There were a lot of people like her around them, but she rarely talked with those kids.

“My parents usually give me tons of presents, but they said they wouldn't send any letters or... things during this time because...” she looked at the ceiling, “well, my mom said I had to grow up and face ― it's alright.”

“Then?” he asked.

She grinned at him. “I thought we'd have fun, maybe walk around at night ― go to the restricted section on the library,” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

Tom swore he could see a shine on her blue eyes, adding to her happiness. “That's a great idea...” he said, thinking that he could close her on the girl's bathroom and leave her there during the night. Maybe she'd start fearing him.

Jennifer sighed and placed her hands on her tights. “It's a plan then?”

He nodded and his eyes went back to the book he was reading.

She shrieked in happiness and got up. “I'm going to ask Frieda for a dress,” she said to herself and ran to the girl's dormitory.

* * *

**19th November 1938,** ** _First Year_**

Jennifer waited patiently on the corner next to the stairs, passing her hands on her dress to make it less wrinkled. It was a bit large for her, but it fit. She gasped loudly when she felt two hands on her waist.

“Hey,” Tom said, recoiling his hands.

She turned around with furrowed eyebrows and pointed a finger at him. “What was that for, Tom?”

He chuckled, glancing at her finger. “I need to have **my** fun.”

She jabbed his chest with her raised finger. “Today is about me. Got it? I turn 12 today, I am starting to be more of a woman now,” she said, straightening her back.

He pushed her hand away and let his eyes drift from her head until they landed on her toes. “You look 7 with that dress.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, starting to walk to the library. “I have been having compliments all day.”

“It's Saturday, everyone's happy, everyone's giving compliments.”

She didn't let go of his wrist until they reached the library. She grabbed her wand and muttered, “ _Alohomora_.”

He widened his eyes. “You can do that?” _He was_ ** _not_ **_impressed._

She turned around to smile at him. “I came prepared.” Still looking at him she opened the door behind her. “I always do.”

He hummed and entered the library behind her, closing the door carefully. “Your weird poshness serves for something.”

She ignored his commented and walked through the library until they reached the restricted section. They sneaked around the bookshelves to not get caught by who was guarding the place. When they reached it Jennifer raised her wand and cast, “ _Muffliato,_ ” to them both.

Tom was impressed ― just a tiny bit ― once more. “Wow. Since when do you know these spells.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows at him and smiled. “What do you wanna do?” she asked.

 _A lot of things. But, none involved celebrating her birthday, that was almost passing._ He took a step towards her _._ “Let's read some books.”

She chuckled. “Pick one.”

They stayed reading books until the Sun illuminated their faces, but by that time they had already fallen asleep on the floor. Jennifer was lying against a bookshelf while Tom's head was on her shoulder, having fallen there at some point. When she woke up she looked at her left where Tom was still asleep, she didn't remember falling asleep, but she was sure that he didn't fell asleep before her.

She could feel his hair on her neck, itching a bit, so she moved up, hoping he would wake up. Tom raised his head and rubbed his eyes with his fists. She bit her lip grabbing the books from the floor and putting them back on the shelves. She couldn't believe that she fell asleep in a library... with a _boy_. Her mother would kill her if she knew, probably literally.

Tom groaned as he got up. “My neck hurts,” he muttered in a sleepy voice. He looked at her ― she looked perfect, even after having slept sitting on the floor, she looked beautiful ― she always did ― Tom hated it. He hated her.

She chuckled as she placed the last book in its place. “My back hurts.” When she turned around she noticed him gazing at her. “What?”

“You just woke up and your hair still looks perfect,” he growled, “also, your first thought was to put the books back in their place.”

“And?” she wondered, putting her hand to feel her hair, it was still neat. It passed her shoulders a bit now, and she liked it like that better. She didn't know if it was worth being punished for when she came back, but at that moment she didn't want to think about that.

He clenched his jaw. “It irritates me.”

Jenny stepped back, her back hitting the bookshelf. “I'm ― I ― I like to keep things in their place,” she looked down, “well, my mom does and I... I suppose I envy that.”

He continued to look at her with a glare.

“Tom, why are you looking at me like that?” she asked him. Her wand went flying to the side, making her turn her head to it. “Tom...”

_You always have to be so perfect. Make me look bad._

She looked at him, his mouth wasn't moving. She could feel pressure, inside, in her head. “What?”

_Always talking about your mother, about yourself, always showing off._

She heard a pitching noise, it hurt her ears. “Stop,” she whimpered, feeling her knees tremble.

_Had to talk to me, as if I... Why did you?_

She could hear it, the sound of her mother's heels on the wood floor, it made her heart race. “You ― you glared at me.”

“I wanted to be alone,” he said, walking forwards.

 **_You're such a disappointment._ ** Her mom, she could hear her. She looked at Tom who was smirking at her. **Who do you think you are? You're an 11 ― now 12 ― year old who knows nothing about the world, who can't even pass the family name. You're disappointing.**

“I try to make you happy,” Jennifer whispered, closing her eyes. The noise that hurt her ears was gone, but she found herself in a dark place, she was sitting down, her mom was in front of her, looking down.

 **Make me happy?** The woman laughed, raising her hand and dropping it on her cheek. **All you make me feel is the need to disown you, but I can't do that, can I?** Her mother started pacing around the chair she was sitting down at. **I would be seen as mean, evil, someone who wants her daughter gone, we both know that's not me, is it?**

“Tom,” she whispered, dropping her head. He continued staring at her, not stopping.

 **I always wanted to show you the world, make you learn** **_who to be_ ** **, but you never cared, you never quite saw it, did you? You never understood it.**

“I will... I will learn, please, I will,” she found herself whispering.

**You always say that, but you always commit mistakes. And, then you wonder why I punish you... You're worth nothing.**

Jennifer felt the woman grab her arm and push her to the ground. “Mum,” she whispered, feeling tears starting to form.

 **You're just like your father, a weak little thing, who can't even defend herself. Who can't...** She started laughing and suddenly Jennifer felt a hand around her throat, her mother was still standing there and the end continued choking, making her gasp for breath. **I wished you had never been born.** She could feel the fingers digging into her skin, her heartbeat increasing or feeling faster because she could feel it on her throat. **Sometimes I wish that I squeezed your throat just... a bit too tight and ended up strangling you.** The force didn't change even a bit even as she tried to push her off. 

Just as everything turned black, Jennifer opened her eyes to see Tom standing in front of her, in the restricted section. She started coughing, finally being able to breathe. She couldn't form words in her head and could still feel her heart beating rapidly, in her chest and in her neck.

“Sorry, I got too excited,” Tom said. “I can do worse than that. So, I'd warn you to stay away from me.” She looked at him, having stopped coughing. “And, never invite me for anything ever again.”

Jennifer raised her back to not look up at him.

“You can invite me to the restricted section anytime, though.”

“You're sick,” she whispered, her voice quivering. It hurt to speak. 

He saw two tears, one on each cheek slid down. “I haven't even done much, your mind did it all, it conjured things your mom has told you at some point and made the worst thing you have ever thought of, happen, ” she raised her hands to clean her tears. “Apparently, it is your mother _accidentally_ killing you.”

Jennifer shook her head. “Stay away from me.”

“With pleasure... Jenny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer found new friends, how long will they last? Will Tom let his boredom consume him?


	6. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity Ainsworth has a... weird request for Jennifer.

Her chest ached, her stomach often kept her from eating, the obsessing thought of not smiling all the time intensified what she felt in her chest. Jennifer hated being with Felicity and Alta, especially Alta, she always criticized her and told her that her blood status should be able to get her anything, but she never did anything that allowed that to happen. She reminded her of her mother, someone she had grown to deeply despise. 

“You know, you and Tom look cute together,” Felicity said as she brushed past a few pages of a book. She was supposed to be studying, but whenever the time came she never actually did anything. Felicity Ainsworth had terrible grades, the only thing that salvaged her was her parents bribing the teachers to make it so she came off as a notorious student.

Jennifer wrinkled her nose. “No, we don't.”

She bit her lip and went from a lying down position to sit on her bed. “You do... a bit.” When Jenny didn't say anything, she continued, “do you think I'd have a chance?”

“Of what?” 

Felicity shrugged. “Being with him.”

She licked her lips and ignored the tiny bit of jealousy she felt from her question. “Well... ask him out. I doubt he'd care.”

“Have you ever asked him out?” she asked.

Jennifer chuckled and looked down at her lap. “No... nor would I.”

Felicity placed a hand behind her and leaned back. “You flipped! Why not?” she asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“He's not a ― I'm not interested,” Jennifer replied. _Dating a psychopath wasn't in her list of priorities._

“You don't fancy him?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Jennifer looked at Felicity and shook her head, smiling when the other girl pursed her lips in thought. “You can have him all for yourself.”

Felicity giggled and got up from the bed. “How's he like?”

“Pardon?” 

She shrugged and dimples could be seen on her cheeks from how hard she was smiling. “Personality-wise ― unless, you want to speak about something else.”

Jennifer gulped when Felicity wiggled her eyebrows. “I ― we ― no.”

Felicity pressed her lips together and laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” Jenny wondered.

“I know you're lying...” Felicity said walking towards Jennifer.

“But, it's true I -”

“Abraxas saw you in the common room, he left dinner early and saw you on top of Tom... moaning,” she told, her smile dropping.

Jennifer chuckled and straightened her back. “That's... it meant nothing.”

Felicity pressed her teeth together and muttered, “it better not have. Because I'm going to throw my chances at him and he better not reject me and say he's totally in love with you.”

 _As if Tom would ever be in love with anyone. She had forgotten how much the others didn't know Tom, they just got their panties wet for seeing his defined cheekbones._ “I can assure you that he won't say that.” _Jennifer found herself wishing he'd reject Felicity._

Felicity went back to grinning. “Well... do you think I've got a chance then.”

 _No._ “Why, of course, why wouldn't you?”

She bit her lower lip and gazed at the ceiling. “I'm going to ask him Monday. I have two days to prepare ― wait,” she looked at Jennifer, “maybe you can help me.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows, “how?”

“Talk to him. Ask him if he finds me attractive.”

“Me? Talking to him?” she questioned.

“Yes... you're friends, aren't you?” Felicity asked.

Jennifer nodded. “Sure.”

“Then...” Felicity asked while wiggling her eyebrows.

“Ok, I will.” _She wasn't sure why she said that_. Maybe it was the part of her that couldn't wait to see ― well, speak to Tom, she saw him during class since they sat together. 

“Perfect!” the brunette shrieked.

Jennifer smiled at her.

“I'll tell you what to say...” Felicity started and sat next to the blonde.

“Ok,” she chuckled.

* * *

Jennifer went around Hogwarts to look for Tom, his location was... uncertain most of the times. After 15 minutes of looking she was almost giving up. The day before, Felicity had told her everything that she needed to know about her and what she wanted her to tell Tom that, in Felicity's words, would _win him over._ She was 100% sure that Tom would say no, he wasn't someone who dated, ever. A part of her wondered if Felicity would blame **her** for his denial of her proposal, but another part didn't care.

Weirdly enough, it had been 2 weeks since they last _properly_ spoke, the day at the train when he cured the bruises her mum made. That moment felt away more important than it was, it gave her chills and tingles, she wasn't sure why. She felt anxious when she saw him ― especially because **that** moment felt unfinished, like most of the times they talked ― it always led it somewhere, and closure didn't happen. _Things were building up._

When she turned one of the thousand corners she saw Tom, sitting down while reading a book. He didn't notice her presence at first (which surprised her) so she got to her knees and sat next to him, with legs crossed. Tom looked at her and closed the book, placing it on his right side, it was a quick action, it was obvious that he didn't want her to see what he was reading. “Garrick...” he greeted.

She bowed her head in a greeting motion. “Riddle.” _Last name bases it is._

Tom raised his eyebrows at her. “Accidentally killed Alta and need my help to cover up the murder?” he joked.

She chuckled. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Well, dammit,” he said turning his body to face her more directly, his knee brushing against her tight.

“Somebody ― er ― Felicity wants you,” she furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the ceiling, “hm ― not that,” she chuckled, “she wants to ask you out.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Why are you here then?”

She looked at him. “I ― I volunteered ― well, I didn't,” she raised her hand to put a piece of hair behind her ear, “she told me to ― asked for my help. She fancies you...”

Tom laughed at her. A deep laugh that made her want to get up and leave. “Why would I say yes? I barely know her.”

Jennifer pursed her lips. She forgot, forgot everything Felicity had told her, she had no idea what she was supposed to say.

“Is this how it was supposed to- ”

“Do you find her attractive?” she asked, bluntly.

He ran his tongue on his upper lip. “I guess.” Tom had looked her up and down twice, _maybe._

“Well, she ― well, if you say yes to the date then you'll find more about her.” Jennifer gulped, the sound was heard by both, making her blush.

His eyes went from her throat to her eyes. “Are you convincing me to go out with her?”

She sighed. “That's what wingmen ― well, women ― do.”

“Do you want me to go out with her?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, a curl dropping on his forehead.

She felt like she had played a Quiddich game suddenly ― three. “Why wouldn't I?”

Tom chuckled at her. _He definitely didn't want to go out with Felicity,_ but he knew it would make Jennifer angry ― maybe upset ― if he did. And, making people feel hurt was something he lived for. It gave him a sense of **power**. “Yes.”

Jennifer's face fell ― at least, it was what it felt like. Her entire expression dropped, she didn't feel _that_ nervous anymore, she felt like she wanted to grab Tom's pretty hair and push his head against the wall... repeatedly. “What?”

“I will go on a date with her,” he confirmed.

“Ok...” she replied.

He nodded and smirked at her. “Tell her to dress nicely.”

She nodded back but didn't walk away. “She will.”

“Hmm,” he licked his lips, “Frieda owns nice dresses. Tell her to get one of hers.” Tom leaned in and whispered, “preferably, a short one.” Tom wasn't sure what he was doing, but he liked it, liked to watch Jennifer struggle to say the right words.

Jennifer snapped at that. She grabbed his hair, strongly and made him bend his head back. “Dickhead.”

He looked her up and down, surprised at first but then found his smirk once again. “Jealous that I'll give her what you've wanted since Fourth Year?”

She chuckled and got to her knees so that she would look down on him. “What would that be, Riddle?”

He leaned his head forward pushing against her grip on his hair. “To get in my pants ― don't worry, she will probably give you all the details.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “She won't want to do that with you.”

“Oh, I'm sure she will. I see how she looks at me.”

She gulped. “You wouldn't ―”

“Why? Do you think I care that you're jealous? Do you think I care about you?” he grabbed her wrist tightly, “do you think anyone does?”

She loosened her grip on his hair which helped him to push her hand away. “You're a jerk, Riddle.”

“Not much different from...” he bit his lower lip and grabbed her waist, pushing her so that she'd fall on her back with him between her legs.

She grabbed his forearms and dug her nails in. “From me?”

Tom hissed at the pain her nails caused. “I'm surprised you are hanging out with those girls.”

She looked around, remembering where they were. Someone could come at any moment. “I'm surprised you care.”

“I don't.” He placed his hand on her tight making her moan. He raised his eyebrows. “Didn't even do anything.”

Jennifer pushed against his shoulders until he fell on her left side. She got up, but before she could walk away, he pinned her against the wall in front of her.

“I'm not surprised your mother beats you up,” he whispered on her ear from behind, “you behave so badly.”

She turned around and faced him. “I'm not surprised...” she forgot what she was about to say when she saw the ways his pupils were dilated, they were in a dark place, but not _that_ dark.

“What? Wand got stuck on your throat or something?”

“You want me, don't you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Why would I?”

Jennifer laughed in his face. “You wanting to make me jealous means you care ― Tom Riddle actually cares for someone besides himself.”

Tom raised an eyebrow at her “You're ― ”

“You want to have control over me. You want me to stay away. All because you feel like you lose yourself when you're near me.” She placed a hand on the wall behind her to steady herself.

“It's not that deep,” he stepped closer to her, “at least, not as deep as the wound I will leave on you if you don't stop insinuating that nonsense.”

She reached for her wand, that was tucked underneath her skirt. “ _You mean nothing to me_ ,” she repeated back at him, “you mean nothing to everyone around you. No one cares about you.”

“I don't need anyone.”

She raised her wand at him. “Then why do you need your servants of friends? Hm? If they're so useless why do you keep them around? Why not become the greatest wizard of all time alone?” she teased, licking her lips.

“Without me, they'd be nothing.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Without you... ” she pressed her wand against his neck, “without you they'd actually be someone.”

He snorted at her. 

“You can't even live forever, what you want to do is pointless.”

Tom smiled at her, a smile that made her want to run away. “There's so much you don't know about.”

Jennifer furrowed her eyebrows. “ _You look so perfect it annoys me_.”

He tilted his head back. “Surprised you remember that.”

“You're disappointing, I don't know how your parents sleep knowing they had you.”

Tom placed a hand next to her head. “Don't talk about them.”

“Why?”

“They're dead. How you'll be if you continue talking.”

She couldn't hold her gasp back. He talked about it so casually. Like they meant nothing. “What?”

“You heard me.”

She raised her knee and used her hands to lower him so that it'd hit his stomach. She was short but managed to make it work. Tom stumbled back and she pointed her wand at him again, “ _crucio_.” 

Tom fell to the ground and started twitching, yells leaving his mouth.

“ _Muffliato_.” She looked at him as he struggled to fight the pain the spell caused him. Jennifer gritted her teeth, enjoying seeing him yell in pain. She knew that he hadn't expected her to cast it on him, otherwise he would have easily stopped her. The nice and friendly part of her wanted to feel sorry, but the hurting and mean one wanted Tom to feel what she felt those times her mother tortured her so that he'd stop mocking her for it. 

“Jen -Jen ― ugh ― Jennifer!” he yelled, “P-please.”

She pointed the wand at him again and he stopped feeling the pain. She watched as he stopped yelling and immediately tried to get to his feet. “Did you like that?”

He managed to get to his feet by steadying himself on the wall behind him. “You're...” he looked at her as he calmed down his breath.

“How did they die, Tom?” she asked, walking closer to him.

“What?” he asked.

She raised her wand at him again. “You know what,” she dug her wand on his chest, “how did your parents die?”

“I don't -”

“You do,” she quickly replied, digging her wand on his chest harder.

Tom groaned, still feeling his nerves tingling with pain. 

“Tell me.”

“My ― my mother died giving birth to me, she ― ” he looked down, “she was a witch... but died.”

Jennifer was enjoying having a bit of **power** over him. She knew she was at his level, manipulation wise, but she didn't know that she was capable of torturing him. He could be lying of course ― but, the way he was still trembling from her spell told her that he wouldn't dare to do such a thing. “What was her name?”

“Me ― Merope Gaunt,” he told. His mind was messy, it felt messy, he couldn't think straight.

She gasped. “The Gaunt's...” She had a bunch of important names in her family tree, there was no Muggle on it, at least not officially. She heard stories of certain members being disowned for marrying Muggleborns or Half-bloods even. There were also definitely causes of some... slight incest, but nothing as bad as the Gaunt's, she heard most of them were instable, from years over inbreeding. It led certain families to stop marrying cousins... even siblings. 

He looked at her again. “My father, however, he's... he...” Tom clenched his jaw and leaned back from the wall. 

“He's a Muggle, isn't he?”

Tom nodded at her. “Worst of it, he was out there living his best life while ― while I was in an orphanage.” He chuckled at the thought ― _he didn't care anymore._

“Why'd she marry him?” she asked.

He shrugged. “He is ― was ― quite good-looking. But... it wasn't ― she did a love potion. He left her... she was pregnant... of me. Had me in the orphanage and ― and died there.”

“Oh,” she exhaled. _Tom as a baby, hard to think of._ He tried taking a step forward, but she raised her wand higher at him, her arm was starting to hurt. “What was his name ― your father's?”

“Tom Riddle ― _stupid name_ ,” he replied with no hesitation, “the Marvolo is from my mother's father.”

Jennifer put her hand down and store her wand. “It's not his fault, you know?”

Tom chuckled. “For being a filthy muggle?”

Jennifer looked down. 

“I'm disgusted by him.”

She gulped. “Did you ― ” she took a step away from him, “did you kill him, Tom?”

He took a step towards her. “Are you scared now?”

Jennifer raised her head to look him in the eyes. “Did you?”

He tilted his head to the side slightly. “My uncle, Morfin Gaunt, was sent to Azkaban last August for having killed Tom Riddle, my father, Thomas Riddle, my grandfather, and Mary Riddle, my grandmother.”

She glanced at his hand ― at his ring. It all meant sense. She was told by her mother all about who the most important names were, heard from her uncles and aunts about certain families losing their big titles, about who they envied and hated. She knew about family heirlooms. Her family ― The Garrick's ― had one too, and, her father being the only male of the 4 children her grandparents gave it to him. After his death, her mother used the collar, saying she was worthy of it more than Jennifer. 

That ring was from his family. “How do you know all of that?”

“Read it.”

“Have you met them?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

“No,” he replied, shrugging.

She widened her eyes. “Why'd you kill them?”

He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “I didn't ―”

She leaned in to grab his hand. “How do you have that ring then, _Tom_?” she asked, emphasizing on his name.

Tom moved his hand away from hers. 

“I know about almost every family with a title ― old or new ― my whole family feeds on their title like they're starved. You,” she chuckled, “you're desiring something you have no idea how it feels.”

He laughed at her and grabbed her arm, forcing her to walk closer to him. “You have no idea what I... _desire,_ ” he prolonged the last word, mocking her.

“I know exactly what you want, Tom ― I was born into it, and I despise it with my entire body,” she spitted out.

He looked her up and down. “Then, why do you keep talking to me?”

Jennifer tried to push her arm away from his grip, but he pushed against it. His back hit the wall he had leaned off a few minutes before, and she fell against him, their bodies pressing together. “Ass.” She wanted him to understand, she wished he would understand, but he wouldn't ― he couldn't. She had no idea how to _make him feel what she felt, know what she knew_. Sometimes _she knew exactly what he wanted and understood it, but others she didn't and had no idea what went through his mind._

Tom grabbed her other arm and shook her to make her look at him. _He hated the thoughts on her mind_. “You're the one who doesn't understand.”

She looked at him, breathless. “I do,” she whispered. “That's why I'm telling you it's wrong.”

He glanced at her lips. _He wanted to bite them off._ “Your mother was right,” he muttered, “ _you're disappointing_.”

Jennifer wanted to rip his hair off, it looked too good on his head. Everything looked too good on him, she had no idea why. _Why did he seem so perfect?_ She didn't want to, but she knew that the only thing that would insult him she wasn't going to agree with, but would truly hurt him ― the boy who never cared. “At least my father isn't a Muggle,” she said back.

Tom grabbed her hair with his right hand, letting go of one of her arms. “Say that again.”

She laughed and he pushed harder against her hair. “Unlike you, I come from a pure-blood family ― actual wizards,” she twisted her hand to release its grip on her arm and grabbed his wrist, digging her nails in it, “unlike you, my name isn't some simple Muggle name.” He pushed her closer to him, she could feel his breath on her face. “Unlike you -”

Before she could say anything, his lips were on hers. She let go of his wrist to push him closer, her hand went to his hair. _It felt as good as it looked_. She forgot what she was going to say, the only thing on her mind was how rough ― and good ― his lips felt against hers. Tom groaned against her mouth as her fingers tangled between his locks, and he angrily pushed her head to the side to kiss her deeper, making her yelp against his lips. Jennifer opened her mouth when she felt his tongue press against her closed lips, their tongues sloppily found each other. His tongue hit her teeth and it made him hiss in pain, but he continued kissing her. As their lips moved together Jennifer pressed against him harder, drawing a moan from him, her free hand grasping his robes. His lose hand travelled beneath her robes and held on her waist for support, he felt like he was going to pass out ― he had felt the same not too long before when she was torturing him.

She tilted her head to the other side, feeling uncomfortable with it tilted to the left and she hit her nose with his. They both pulled back from the pain it caused. When Tom looked at her again, he grabbed her by the hair again and pushed her against the wall he was leaning on before, pressing his lips to her again. Jennifer moaned because they felt softer than before, more calculative, less sloppy. His hands grabbed her cheeks as he deepened the kiss again.

Before she could make use of her hands they both heard someone _cough_. Tom pulled back from Jennifer like her lips had turned fire. He leaned on the wall next to her.

They looked at Armando Dippet ― the headmaster ― who was glaring at them both. “Mr Riddle and Miss Garrick, must I say that... snogging in the school's hallways ― and in any other place ― is _not_ allowed?” he asked, emphasizing the word _not_. “A prefect should know that.”

“Yes, Sir,” Tom replied, pressing his lips together.

Dippet looked at Jennifer to hear her answer. She felt like everything was spinning, they kissed for longer than she thought, she was inhaling and exhaling through her mouth rapidly. “Hm...” she glanced at Tom who was looking down at the floor ― he had never been caught doing anything prohibited, he felt disappointed in himself.

“Miss. Do you need to relearn the rules?”

“No, no, of course not ― no, sir.”

“Very well,” he mumbled. “Since you're both... prestigious students I'll let this one pass, but if I ever see you two again doing something you aren't supposed to ―”

“No, we won't be, Sir, I can assure you,” Tom interjected, leaning back from the wall and smiling at him. 

Jennifer nodded at what Tom said ― they both knew of Dippet's ways of discipline and neither of them wanted to face it. She also knew that Dippet was fond of Tom ― like all the other teachers ― and wouldn't give him such punishment, but to her, things weren't so simple.

“Very well,” he mumbled and eyes both of them carefully, “go to your common room. It's near curfew already, you wouldn't want to be caught out of bed, would you?” he implied, raising his eyebrows.

Jennifer gulped, having no words for him.

“No, Sir,” Tom responded.

“Very well,” he pointed to the stairs at the end of the hallway that went to the Dungeons. 

Tom walked around Dippet to grab his book that laid on the ground forgotten and put in underneath his robes. Jennifer walked towards the stairs in front of Tom, not once looking behind herself. They both went to their respective dorm rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a... rather unexpected kiss for both Tom and Jennifer, how will they deal with it? Is Tom going to enjoy his date with Felicity?


	7. A taste of your own spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone finds out about Abraxas rumours while another glimpse is done into Jennifer's family...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a family tree of Jennifer and it's pretty big, is anyone interested in knowing her family lmfao?

“I cannot believe that you have a date!” Rosier chuckled, slapping Tom's arm slightly. He looked at him with a glare and Rosier's smile faded slightly, but the corners of his lips were still turned up. 

Tom sighed and placed his fork down. “Neither can I.” Accepting that date wasn't in his plans, he much preferred to stay at the library, reading more books in the restricted section, but he had gotten himself in that situation, and he wasn't going to quit it. He would make Felicity dislike him, and she would drop her interest in him.

“From what Abraxas implied I thought you were going out with my cousin, but ― ”

He snapped his head to look at Rosier who was widening his eyes as if he realized he had told too much. “ _What_ did Abraxas tell you?” he questioned, putting on a smile.

“I ― I can't tell you.”

Tom chuckled and placed his hand on Rosier's arm. “We're friends ― aren't we?” Rosier nodded. “You know more than most about, well, about everything, I'm sure you can confide me that secret ― I won't tell Malfoy you told me.”

Rosier gulped and looked down at his food. He looked around, Abraxas was talking to Petronella, a grin noticeable on his face. “He... He ― hm ― he found you two on the couch at the common room ― I,” he looked at Tom who was still with a smile on his lips, “I'd rather not describe what he told me ― we're related ― I ― ”

“Alright,” Tom said, turning to grab his fork again and continue eating.

“You won't tell him I...”

“No, of course not,” Tom replied before putting a bit of rice on his mouth.

“Great.” Rosier continued eating too, not bothering to look at Tom. He had no idea how Jennifer handled him, _it was like stepping on thin ice talking to him sometimes._ But, they both, at the same time, grew up in a family where even breathing was a threat. Not that he got along with Jennifer that much... or at all, his father (who was his uncle) didn't talk to that side of the family much, also his mother despised Margaret, Jennifer's mother, like almost everyone. He heard that Margaret and his uncle were 2nd cousins, and their marriage was a sign of peace between the Garrick's (her father's family) and the Northmore's (her mother's family); it bothered him knowing that, but he had better things to care about.

“Rosier?” Tom called.

“Yes, my ― Tom.”

Riddle smirked at him and lowered his voice. “It would be such a shame if Abraxas was sent to the hospital wing... accidentally, wouldn't it?”

Rosier chuckled. “I will talk to Avery.”

And he did, Abraxas showed up the next day with a broken arm and leg and slight internal injuries that he would have to rest for them to pass. No one suspected it was inflicted, considering he didn't have problems with anyone, especially because Abraxas himself told he fell down the stairs as he was distracted while reading a note Petronella sent him ― no doubt that Avery changed his memory so that he would believe he _fell_ , but what _actually happened_ was in between Tom and Avery.

* * *

**19th November 1937**

“I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't get the letter, she hasn't done magic ― ever ― she's useless,” Jennifer's mother, Margaret, said, not minding the other people in the room.

Odores, Margaret's only sister, chuckled, “calm down, I'm sure she will, she looks ― ” Odores looked Jennifer up and down, who was standing in the middle of the living room as her relatives sat down on the big sofas in front of her, “she'll get in.” 

“Well, the opinion of a Hufflepuff couldn't mean less to me right now,” Margaret snapped keeping her posture straight and knees together. 

Ackley, Odores' husband, gulped and gave Jennifer a reassuring smile. “I'm sure you'll get in, at first we didn't think Wanda would get the letter because she ― she's a hard person to deal with, she rarely spoke, so we didn't know if she had done magic yet or not, but then ― ”

Margaret groaned, interrupting him, “being surrounded by stupid Hufflepuff's wasn't my way of spending this evening.”

Hurbert coughed slightly calling attention to himself. “The last person to be a... a squib on this family was my ― well, our,” he glanced at Margaret who looked away as she placed a hand on her neck, “great-great-great aunt.”

“Zada Staghart is someone you do not want to be, my dear,” Jennifer's mother said, chuckling, “the stupid woman killed herself at 16 ― couldn't handle the pressure ― her parents were the ones having to deal with the disappointment of having a squib of a daughter and she was the one feeling,” she raised her hands to quote, “ _pressure_.”

Odores, Margaret's sister, asked, “how do you know that?”

Margaret rolled her eyes, “if you spend more time reading the family's history instead of ― whatever it is that you do ― you'd know.”

Ackley glared at Margaret, “don't talk to my wife like that.”

Margaret laughed, it could be heard all over the living room from out tall the ceiling was, “what are you going to do? Doubt you can even do magic.”

Jennifer sighed and looked outside the window as her Mother and uncle fought about meaningless things. She got lost as they started fighting about random family members. Margaret insulted Ackley's brother, Evius Whiddon, who was actually married to Hurbert's sister which, led Hurbert to start fighting with his wife ― something he never succeeded at doing.

As she walked towards the window, to at least enjoy the snowfall, she saw an owl outside with a letter on its mouth, and it rested on a bench outside. She looked at her mother with a smile, “I got it.” Her mother didn't hear her, she was standing up with a finger pointed at Ackley while Odores had a wand pointed at her. Jennifer walked towards the door that led outside and opened it, putting her boots in the snow. She walked towards the owl and took the letter from its mouth, she nodded at it and it flew off; she waved at it as it went. 

“What are you doing outside?” Wanda, her cousin, who had come with her parents to see them, asked. 

Jennifer waved the Hogwarts letter at her 12 years older cousin. “I got a letter.”

Wanda ran to her. “Well, open it, Jenny.”

Jennifer opened the letter with a bright smile on her face. She read it carefully as her mother taught her, and when she read the final words she looked up at her cousin. “I will be going to Hogwarts next year,” she said, biting her lower lip.

“Oh!” Wanda yelled, rushing to hug her, “I'm so happy for you. I hope you'll get in Slytherin, it fits you so well.”

Jennifer chuckled. _She had to get into Slytherin, otherwise, her mother would kill her. Her great-grandparents had gone to Slytherin, her grandparents had gone to Slytherin, her parents had gone to Slytherin, her cousins had gone to Slytherin, she had to go to Slytherin as well, especially being an only child._ “I'm sure I'll be in.”

Wanda pulled back from Jennifer. “Before Hogwarts, I felt so lonely, like I had no purpose, now I feel like a talented witch who no one will mess with ― being in Slytherin gave me that. I love how... proud we all were, I loved being there, I hope you do as well, Jenny.”

Jennifer knew that she _had_ to go to Slytherin, however, she felt like she didn't want to compete for anything ― she just wanted to do everything fair, to live relaxed 7 for years. She was scared that she would be in Hufflepuff, her mum talked about them like they were the worst house and she wondered if they actually were.

“You aren't going to be in Hufflepuff,” Wanda said, looking at her in the eyes. Jennifer furrowed her eyebrows ― she always did that, guessed what she was thinking, she had no idea how. “And, if you are, it's fine, they're fine. I'm sure your mother would change her mind about them if you got into that house. You know, my grandparents, my dad's parents, they were both Gryffindors and they wished to raise their children as such ― do you know what happened?”

She shook her head.

“They got a son on each house, the youngest was the Gryffindor. They felt worried at first, but they realized that...” she chuckled, “you can't force a house on someone nor can you expect them to be something you want. Everyone's different.”

Jennifer looked down. Wanda made sense, _but why was everyone so obsessed with being a pure-blood if being different was ok?_

“Let's tell the others before they seriously injure each other because of you,” Wanda quickly replied right after Jennifer finished her thought. Wanda placed an arm around Jennifer and started walking towards the door, “you know, I think your mum likes you, that's why she acts so ― well, crazy.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I'm certain that she wouldn't truly say those things if she knew they hurt you.”

“I guess...” Jennifer murmured, faking a smile at Wanda.

Everyone was happy for her letter and soon the worry was about what house she would be in ― she had to deal with that for 10 months.

* * *

**23rd January 1944, Sixth Year**

Felicity roamed around the girl's dormitory in her dress, one that ended at her tights. It was lunchtime, it would be hers and Tom's date, they would be on a corner of the Slytherin table, away from the others. It was the best they could get. Gladly, dates ― or events that looked like dates ― weren't prohibited, even if they were, students would find a way, they always did. Alta was in her bed, sighing every 2 minutes, hoping someone would ask her what was wrong, and Petronella was writing letters to Abraxas who had that same day been brought to the hospital wing. All normal behaviour of them. Meanwhile, Jennifer was braiding ― or attempting to braid ― Willow's hair. It seemed like a girl's night, but it was more of a... girl's hang out before lunch.

“Ow,” Willow mumbled as Jennifer pulled on her hair.

“I ― I have no idea how to braid your hair, it's all frizzy and ― and big. Why don't you ask Felicity, she knows how to because of her mother,” Jennifer complained. Willow was the only girl in that year and at least the 3 ones before with that hair, which made her feel a bit out. But, Felicity, helped her, considering her mother had a similar hair, she knew how to do hairstyles certain wizards hadn't heard of. It was oddly rare that there were very few dark-skinned wizards. But, as time went on and even Muggles evolved with their... ideals, even if still awful, more wizards were starting to appear ― surprisingly not Muggleborns sometimes. _There was a whole universe beyond theirs that Jennifer couldn't wait to discover._

“Felicity looks like she's about to pass out,” Willow replied, moving away from her bed to go talk to Felicity. “Hey.”

Felicity stopped on her tracks and sighed deeply. “I can't. He's ― he's so ― he's handsome, he's going to turn me down in the middle ― oh, dear! I'll look like a pig while eating.”

Jennifer wanted to laugh at her but held herself. The thought that she had kissed (2 days before) the guy her supposedly **friend** was having a date with crossing her mind _,_ but soon was pushed away to the corner like it meant nothing _― because it, of course, did ― it was worth zero, less than that even._

“... besides he's not the only boy at Hogwarts, you're pretty, any boy would be happy to date you,” Willow said, eyeing her up and down.

“Yeah, I haven't dated anyone, and I'm fine,” Jennifer reassured, faking a smile at Felicity.

Willow looked from Jennifer to Felicity, “it's not the end of the world. Also,” she gave a small snort, “what are boys even, they're complicated and... and stupid, why even care?”

Felicity shrugged, not feeling any less anxious, but that phrase comforted her in a small way. “You're right. I will just see how it goes.”

Willow leaned in to hug her. “Ok, now fix my hair,” she replied, pulling back.

* * *

Jennifer eyed Felicity and Tom, she couldn't hear them, but she could see them, stare at them even.

Tom found himself enjoying the date, she wasn't too babbly nor to shy, too smiley nor too gloomy, she wasn't complaining about anything. She was talking about the food, exaggerating how elegantly she was eating it ― it reminded him of Jen ― _no, it didn't._

“So, what's it like being a Prefect?” she asked Tom, raising her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled at her as he grabbed the cup to drink some water. “Well,” he took a few gulps, “for me, it's fun. I like having authority.”

Felicity's lips turned into a straight line

“Not that I like having _power_ over others. I like to exercise rules, I feel like they're... needed,” he changed his words and gave her a smile that he noticed made her cheeks pink, “do you like rules?”

Her face relaxed at his explanation. “Yes,” she chuckled, “when they're fair.”

Tom licked his lips. “I can assure you that I'm everything but unfair, Felicity.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “I always thought you'd ― when I knew you were going to be Prefect the fifth year I... it felt like it suited you, _Tom_ ,” she replied.

He clenched his jaw. “Yes, it does.”

“You're always so... perfect. Just a change of letters and it's a ― a sort of job.”

Tom sighed. “Yes, it is quite ironic indeed.”

She hummed in agreement and drank a bit of water herself to clear the silence. She ended up drinking the whole thing. The rest of the date continued smoothly, Tom kissed her hand in the end, making her cheeks turn red and she walked away to the dormitory giggling in each turn she took.

When Jennifer sat down on her usual spot at the library, someone came right after. “And to what do I owe the pleasure,” she ironically said as a breathless Tom sat in front of her.

He took a deep breath. “I ― why?”

“What?” 

He took a few more breaths before calming down his breath. “I... she liked the date, didn't she?”

“How would I ― ”

“I know you know, so just tell me, did she?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

Jennifer shook her head, “yes.”

Tom leaned back on the chair. “Why did you have to be friends with her... if you hadn't befriended her I wouldn't be in this situation,” he stated, “where I can't say no otherwise I will get a reputation I very much want to avoid.”

She chuckled. “So **perfect** , aren't you?” 

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

She looked him in the eyes and glared, “I'm sure you've heard that Abraxas Malfoy is at the hospital wing.”

He tilted his head to the side. “And?”

“Tom, drop the act. Why did you do that?”

“You know, Jenny, there are more 150 students in this school, why does it always have to be me?”

She placed her bag on the table. “Because it _is_ always you. I know you.”

“You think you ― ”

“No, Tom, really, I doubt I haven't seen the real you. You act all perfect for everyone else and when it's me you treat me like crap ― you know, I've seen the perfect Tom and he always shows up in public where everyone can see him, I ― ” she lowered her voice, getting too rilled up, “I know you've... you've done bad things, even to me.”

“Do you think you're special?” he asked, chuckling.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Even if I was, you'd treat me like you'd treat your worse enemy. You can't realize when people care about you ― and that's going to be your downfall,” she murmured, moving the chair back and getting up.

“You're so dramatic, Jennifer,” he groaned.

She had already turned her back to him, but she licked the inside of her cheek and turned around. “You've killed your family, _Tom_.”

He looked around and glared at her. “Jen ― ”

“No. I won't shut up.” She walked towards him. “You're involved in dark magic, you would do anything to be from a pureblood family ― you're the worst person I've ever met, Tom.”

“Is this a personality session, do you want me to tell what you are too?” he asked.

She gasped and rolled her eyes, “I'm nowhere near being like you.”

“Aren't you?” he got up, “hm, let's see. Your own mother hates you, your father probably died of knowing he had you as a daughter,” he chuckled, “you performed an Unforgivable Curse on me, which ouch, by the way, and you tell me I'm the worse one?”

She scowled. “There you are, insulting me again. Can't you see that insulting the girl you've been messing around with,” she said as he rolled his eyes, “is quite childish.”

He took a step towards her. “I'm not childish.”

“You act like you are ― can't even tell what's right from what's wrong ― ”

“There's no right or wrong, Jenny,” he replied, “there's just power and who's strong enough to have it ― who deserves it.”

She licked her lips. “And... you do?”

“Of course.”

“I don't?”

That was a question he didn't know the answer for. “Maybe.”

Jennifer gritted her teeth together. “I'm a pure-blood, I come from a rich and powerful family, why don't I deserve power ― aren't people like me who you worship?”

Tom shrugged. “I don't care about it. Getting power through powerful people gives the best... results...” he smiled at her.

Her stomach did a turn at that smile. “Are you using me?”

“No.”

“Then, why do you bother with me?” she asked.

“I don't know,” he replied.

“Do you care about me?”

Tom shook his head. “I don't need you ― ”

“But, do you want to?” she asked, “do you want to need me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don't... I ― you don't understand what I need.”

“Show me.”

He laughed at her. “You wouldn't be able to handle it...”

Jennifer smiled back at him. “Show me or I'll tell everyone about... about everything.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his smile dropping.

“You love to blackmail people, don't you? Then, there you go, giving you a bit of your own spell.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

Tom stared at her.

“Show me, Tom.”

He gulped and looked down. He wasn't sure he should, _he could just obliviate her, make her forget about everything, but a part of him wanted to lure her in, to show her what she was missing. But, he wanted to be the best ― alone ― and... she would stop him, she wouldn't ― if he was truly the best, that would be a way of showing her ― she wouldn't overtake him, no one did... Tom didn't know what to say, no one was ever that blunt to him ― he found them, they didn't look for him. They respected him ― she didn't._

“Are you afraid?” she asked.

Tom bit his lip and knew exactly what he would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Tom accept her request, is he willing to have any competition whatsoever? Is she even up to him? Much more is coming on Tainted Love, and nothing is always for certain...
> 
> (XOXO, Gossip girl lol)


	8. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As 12-year-old Jennifer and Tom start talking again after her birthday, 17-year-old Jennifer and Tom have... fun in Potions class.

**2nd January 1939, _First Year_**

Tom leaned back against the wall of the train as he was sitting down at the table. As the train went the stared at the window, watching the landscape pass by. He loved magic, he loved Hogwarts, it was where he wished to be ― always. He felt at home in there, he felt good doing magic ― realizing he was special, that he was better than most ― or, even all of his classmates.

Suddenly, the door at the end of that carriage opened and someone came from it limping, it was Jennifer ― he hadn't talked to her since her birthday, she wouldn't even look at him... which he didn't mind. But, the way she was limping through the small pace in front of him and struggling to sit down made him curious. She sat at the table across from him and put her legs up, leaning back against the wall, her eyes drifted to him, but then she looked away, licking her lips.

“You look like shit,” Tom blurted as he tried to hide his curious face in.

Rosier, who was in front of Tom laughed as he looked at Jennifer, his cousin. “Yeah. Did you fall on your way to the train station or something?” 

She sighed and looked at him with a glare, “how are Granpa and Grandma?”

He squinted his eyes and shook his head. “Wouldn't know ― it's not like I care anyway.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Well, they're _fine_ , if your mother ever considers seeing them again, instead of being a bitch and ― ”

He got up from his seat. “Don't,” he warned and she shut her mouth, “call my mother that.”

She chuckled. “Must have slipped, sorry.”

“I'm sure you are,” Rosier scowled, raising his chin at her.

“What are you going to do?” she challenged, lifting her head, “gonna hit a girl, are you?”

He clenches his hands, something Jennifer noticed as her eyes wandered from his neck where a vein was starting to pop out to his hands. “You'd deserve it.”

“So...” she leaned forward a bit and whispered, “besides being weak like your mother, you're also aggressive?”

Before Rosier could say anything back, Tom groaned loudly. “Will you shut up?”

Rosier suddenly had to grab the back of the seat he was previously in, as the train did a halt. “Only if she does.”

“I don't take orders from psychopaths,” she murmured, looking at Tom.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I'm sure you don't,” he looked her up and down, “was that your mother?”

Jennifer blushed and looked down at her legs. “None of your business...”

Rosier furrowed his eyebrows. “She'd do that?”

She looked at him, “not like you'd know... nor your mum.”

He rolled his eyes and sat down again, not bothering with her anymore. If he kept that altercation going it'd end up with one of them dead.

Tom smiled at her. “Still... it didn't work, you're as snappy as usual.”

She gasped and looked at him with an open mouth. “You need to have a lot of courage to say that, _fucking_ ― ” She widened her eyes at herself from having cursed, it wasn't a habit of hers nor did she want it to be.

“Aww, she can swear, so cute,” he replied with a fake pout.

Jennifer's eyes went to their usual size, and she chuckled. “I guess you didn't choke _that_ out of me,” she snapped and smiled at him, a smile that showed her teeth more than it showed happiness.

Rosier looked in between them but decided to not say anything.

“And you're crazy too, nice mixture,” Tom said.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and it was in that moment that she knew that she was **not** going to stay away from Tom ― in fact, _she planned to bother him more_ ― she knew that she annoyed him and there was nothing that he would do that she hadn't gone through already... She felt angry, and she planned to let that anger out ― on him ― who was responsible for _some part of it._ “Not crazier than you.”

* * *

**24th January 1944, S _ixth Year_**

Felicity, instead of studying, was picking the best dress to go on _another_ date with Tom. Frieda had given her three dresses to pick from and told her **good luck.** She would indeed need luck for Jennifer not to rip her head off she found out. Except that... she didn't. She wasn't showing any signs of being mad, she even encouraged, saying she'd do her makeup ― classy style. It was nearly a week until the _date ―_ it would take place on Saturday, and it was still Monday ― but, Felicity was already nervous, extremely.

Jennifer closed her Herbology book and placed it on the bed next to herself. The day before, she had said something... quite brave ― _show me ―_ as if, he would ever think she was worth enough to be apart of... she didn't really know, she just wanted something ― a thing to keep her distracted ― and she was tired of Tom telling her how **worthless** she was, and then kissing her like ― _no, she didn't think of that_. At least, she had an idea of what went through his mind:

_I need power and I shall have it because I'm the best._

She didn't know, however, why he thought he was the... best ― or worthy of anything. Tom did things for a reason, and she felt like “ _eliminating Muggleborns from the Wizarding world_ ” wasn't it. Jenny was curious about Tom, she would admit it, but she was also scared ― she had done a curse on him, and he didn't even get that mad ― he doesn't let people push him around. Her not having woken up in the hospital wing not remembering anything was a surprise to her.

“Use the green one,” Willow suggested as she, too, went through her Herbology book.

“Green?” Felicity wondered placing it in front of her body as she looked in the mirror. “I look like a plant.”

“Tom has an O in Herbology,” Willow replied, not looking away from the book.

“As he has in everything else,” Jennifer added.

Felicity dropped the dress and pouted. “Nothing looks good on me.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Study and put away the dresses, the date's in 4 days or so.”

Willow glanced at Jennifer. “You've clearly never had a date with a boy.”

She sighed and sat up, “I know Tom, alright? He won't care about what you're wearing.”

Felicity placed her hands on her hips. “Just because he never cares about what _you_ are wearing doesn't mean that he doesn't care about what _I_ am going to be wearing,” she snickered.

Jennifer licked her teeth.

“Also, he's a _boy,_ of course, he'll care.”

“If he cared, he'd be wearing it,” Jenny stated, making Felicity wrinkle her nose, “he cares about what's underneath.”

Felicity gasped. “I believe that he actually likes me ― that's not what he's interested in...” she looked at Willow, “is it?”

Willow looked up to look at her back. “I'm not a guy, how would I know?”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “They're not a different species,” she said, “you want to date him to be romantically involved with him, just like he does.” The truth was that he didn't want any of that, but Jenny wasn't looking forward to getting hexed by Tom from having told that, so she smiled at Felicity.

The brunette raised her eyebrows. “Do you think he wants to be my boyfriend?”

“Who wouldn't,” Willow murmured still looking at the book.

Felicity smiled. “You're right. I _am_ great, he probably likes me.”

* * *

Jennifer groaned and threw the vegetable at the table. “I hate you,” she spoke at the spinach.

“I have no idea how you manage to _even_ get an A in Potions, ” Tom, who was next to her, mumbled as he watched Jennifer's attempt at making a potion.

Jennifer whined, “I hate this, this sucks, why do we even have potions? I don't ever want to make a potion, why would I? Who'd I just turn to and say _'here's a potion, sir, take it, now'?_ ” she mocked.

Tom sighed, “you can use it on yourself ― Polyjuice, for example, very handy.”

“Why? Who would I want to be?” she questioned, dropping something green on the potion as if to fix it.

“You could go on a date with Felicity instead of me and make her hate me.”

Jennifer furrowed her eyebrows, pretending the idea didn't amuse her. “Being you? I'd end up killing myself from how sad your life is.”

He clenched his jaw. “The potion doesn't last _that_ long, Jenny.”

“Is that a plan of yours? Tryna lure me into it?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I wouldn't want you marking my reputation for worse, so of course it's not something I'd consider.”

She smiled. “Maybe I can kiss her badly so that she'd drop her liking on you.”

He had to gulp because when she said kiss he imagined how good her lips had felt against his, her hair on his fingers, her fingers on his hair ― “Kiss her as yourself, maybe she'll fall in love with you.”

Before Jennifer could roll her eyes and mumble something like 'that's not how love works' ― Tom said something else.

“Also, who said your kisses weren't bad already?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

She glanced at his potion, it was done, perfect it seemed. It took him such little time to do it, he had the rest of the class to kiss the teacher's ass. “You pulling back for more,” she snapped.

He snorted. “Was hoping you'd get better...”

Jennifer widened her eyes at that and grabbed a cup she had used ― to measure a liquid she couldn't remember ― and dove it in her potion.

“What are ― ” he suddenly gasped when she splashed her awfully made potion on him. People around them started laughing at Tom.

“I hope you turn into a _snake_ so that then I can rip you in two,” she replied with a grin.

Tom glanced at her hand where that cup was and forcefully grabbed it back. Jennifer tried to push his arm back when he put it in the cauldron ― to get more of that weird green liquid he was covered in ― but to no success. While she held on to his left arm, he grabbed the cup with his right hand and turned it upside down on her head.

She pulled back with an open mouth. “Fuck you!” she yelled.

He smirked at her. But, as everyone stopped laughing he looked around, his eyes met with the teacher's who was coming from the storage where he had gone to get an ingredient.

Mr Slughorn walked towards them with furrowed eyebrows. “Tom, what happened?” he questioned.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and pushed some of the liquid off her head. _Tom._

“Sir, I ― I ― I'm sorry, she provoked me and...” he gave an exaggerated sigh, “I am ashamed of myself if I'm being completely honest. I understand if you must send us to detention.”

She side glanced at him and looked at the cauldron in front of her ― _she felt like throwing it all down him_. He never stuttered, she was surprised that the professor didn't know that, considering Tom was basically his nr.1 pet.

Horace shook his head, “I have no choice, I hope you understand.” He looked at Jennifer, “you too, Miss Garrick.” 

“No problem, **we** were both quite childish to have done this.” She placed her hand on Tom's arm, “I apologize for the both of us, Professor.” She felt his arm move slightly as if to motion her to move her hand off it. 

“Apology accepted, but I still must talk to Mr Dippet,” he said, looking down, “but I'm sure his punishment won't be too bad, considering you're both pretty good students.”

Tom gulped and nodded at him. “I see... Sir.”

“I'll talk to him after class,” the teacher replied and looked at the mess they made on themselves and on the floor, “clean that.” He glanced at a student who was calling him, “excuse me.”

That was the final class so their punishment would most certainly be on the same day, both of them realized that and looked at each other.

Jennifer opened her mouth in shock, “you're a _fucking_ idiot.”

He turned to her, her hand dropping from his arm, “you were the one who started this.”

She scoffed, “sure... If you weren't a mean son of a _bitch_ all the time that wouldn't _fucking_ happen.”

Tom widened his eyes at her choice of words and chuckled. “Angry, are you?”

She clenched her jaw and leaned in, “you have no _fucking_ idea.”

He grabbed his wand and placed it above them both, “ _Tergeo_.” Both them and the floor was cleaned ― it was like nothing had happened.

Her eyes dropped to his lips but raised to his eyes when she saw a smirk form in them. “You know magic? I must say I'm impressed.”

He licked his lips and looked away from her. “And, I'm the mean one?”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me?”

“Language, Miss!” The professor shouted.

She looked behind herself to glance at Mr Slughorn, he was already talking to a different student.

The headmaster stared at Tom and Jennifer as they sat in front of his desk. “What a coincidence...” he started, his eyes piercing even into Tom's who was sitting like a statue on his seat, “that you two got into more trouble for the past week already than since First Year.” _Tom definitely had gotten in more trouble, he just didn't know about it._

Jennifer straightened her back and had to grasp the arms of her seat so that it wasn't noticeable that her hands were shaking. Tom sighed and looked down ― he couldn't believe what his life had turned into ― _being sent to the headmaster's office and going on dates_... It was outrageous.

“I did tell you that I wouldn't excuse you this time,” he said leaning forward, “and, honestly, wasn't even expecting for it to be a second time...” He placed his elbows on the wooden desk.

“Sir ― ” Tom called.

“I haven't finished, Riddle,” Dippet interjected. “As I was saying ― I wasn't expecting there to be a second time ― and, your punishment will be quite... simple.”

Jennifer could barely blink. His words were passing by her and she tried to maintain a straight face. Meanwhile, Tom was starting to feel more relaxed ― _not like he was... nervous before._

“As a prefect, Tom,” he looked at Tom “I hoped you'd know better than to,” he looked at Jennifer, “throw a potion at someone. Something really bad could've happened to both of you.” _It wasn't like he cared if it did._

“I'm really sorry, Sir, but ― well, she did it first and I didn't have enough self-control to hold myself from doing it too,” he excused.

“Hmm,” Dippe nodded, “you don't seem to have the best self-control indeed Tom... from what I've seen,” he cleared his throat and Jennifer glanced at Tom, just in time to see him look away from Dippet and his cheeks turn light pink. _He felt something, after all._ “Anyway ― you two will be put into detention, also known as, an empty classroom where you'll be put alone with no distractions, no magic. If you leave or try to, whipping will be your punishment instead.”

Jennifer gasped. “Whi ― whipping, as in?”

“As in... whipping ― on your back ― of course,” he replied.

Tom smiled at him. “Very well. I apologize for the last time, Mr Dippet. I can assure nothing of the sorts will ever happen again.”

Jennifer didn't hear what he said, she was trying to process the punishment they would be enduring. “What about sleeping?”

“You can sleep on the stone floor,” Dippet replied.

“What ― what about if ― eh ― I wanna go to the bathroom or ― I don't know ― food.”

“Not my problem,” he answered.

She raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“About the food, you must wait until breakfast tomorrow ― which you were already going to,” he stated, “about the bathroom, I suppose I can create one in the room.”

Jennifer gulped and nodded. “Am I ― Will I be with him?” 

Dippet nodded. “Don't understand the complaints, though, Miss.”

“I just threw a ― a potion at him, do you ― Sir ― think that I will be happy to be in the same room as him for more than 10 hours?” she asked.

“You can always pick the whipping,” he argued, “maybe you'd like the Quill punishment instead?”

She knew exactly what that was ― her mum had used it on her ― so she immediately bit her lip. “No, Sir.”

“Very well... Mr Pringle will be taking you there.”

Tom got up when the headmaster finished talking while Jennifer had to hold to the arms of the seat as she got up, making sure her legs would still work. When she got to her feet, she could feel her muscles twitching. He glanced at her and then continued walking out of Dippet's office.

_Detention should be fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Slytherin's Prefect and Jennifer got themselves into detention... who will kill the other first?


	9. Detentions suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer and Tom "enjoy" their detention together.

Jennifer sighed and paced around the small, square room she and Tom would be staying in for a few hours. It wasn't something she was looking forward to ― especially considering how things got when they were alone for more than 5 minutes. She ran her hands through her hair which was a tangle of golden locks because it was the end of the day, also she was had been making it worse for the time she had been there for. The feeling of her fingertips on the scalp of her head was making her calm down a bit, it did feel good. However, she was expecting that there would be time to have a shower ― a real one ― and that she wouldn't have to do a cleaning spell when she got her wand back; her hair would be greasy in the morning and cleaning spells only got rid of the dirt, didn't exactly give her hair the volume she carefully tried to make happen every single morning.

Tom was sitting on one corner of the room staring at Jennifer who wouldn't even steal a glance at him. There were two windows in the room but the view was too small to actually enjoy. Therefore, he was extremely bored and was wondering why she hadn't said anything yet, she was very chatty around him ― he  _ did  _ hate that, but at a time like that, even anger was a less boring feeling. “Aren't you going to say anything?” he questioned.

She brought her hands to her sides and turned around to face him. “What do you want me to say?” she asked back, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I don't ― ”

“How it was your fault?” she suggested, tilting her head to the side. He opened his mouth to say otherwise, but she continued talking. “How we could both be in bed right now instead of in a room together with  _ nothing _ to do? How you always manage to ruin my life whenever you're around? How ― ”

“I get it!” he shouted, placing his hands on the stone floor to get up. “I get that you think it's my fault ― ”

“I think? I know it's your fault, for  _ Salazar's sake _ ,” she growled, her teeth together as she did. 

He walked towards her, his eyes going from her face to her shoes, licking his lips. “It's not my fault. You were the one who started complaining.”

She blushed at the way he eyed her up and down, making her close the robes she had untangled a bit (pacing around had made her hot). “You were the one who fucking started taunting me, you fucking asshole,” she cursed.

He gasped at her language. “As much as I appreciate you letting your  _ honest _ thoughts out, at least get your facts straight.” He leaned forward, looking at her from above, being taller than her. “I may have tried to rile you up, but I usually do that. I have said worse things to you than ' _ you kiss awfully'.  _ I've got no idea why that made you mad enough to throw a potion at me.”

She pursed her lips, not sure what to respond. She didn't get any madder than usual, but it wasn't like there was a potion in front of her when he was trying to make her angry besides, _ why did he want to rile her up?  _ “I wasn't mad,” she replied, dropping her eyes to the floor, “I thought it'd be fun.”

He snorted. “Sure thing, Jenny, you hold yourself in front of people who make you fucking furious and you're expecting me to believe that you couldn't hold herself from throwing a potion at  _ me _ , who made a simple comment?”

Too many things had gone between them and she felt that he wasn't as affected by them as she was. She had thrown that potion at him because she was  _ frustrated _ , wanted to physically hurt him ― she couldn't do that in a classroom, though. She knew why she reacted so badly, but she wouldn't confess why knowing that it was what he wanted her to do ― he wanted her to get mad again and to yell at his face. She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on his chest, pushing him back. 

He chuckled, it wasn't that big of a push. He merely stumbled a bit backwards. “Getting angry again?”

“I'm beyond angry.” She raised her hand to slap him across the face, but he caught her wrist, expecting it. 

“What's  _ beyond angry  _ ?” he asked, smiling at her. 

She pushed her wrist back from his hold and then used all her force to push him again. His back hit the wall behind him and a groan left his mouth. “Quite an obvious answer, Tom.”

“Well, it  _ is  _ furious,” he stated as she started walking towards him.

She stopped in front of him and stared at him. His hair looked messier than usual too, but in a good way, better than hers. It made him look hotter ― if that was possible, even. And, the smirk he gave her when he noticed her looking at his lips made certain tingles happen where they shouldn't have.

He noticed her flustered face. “If being furious makes you horny, be ― ”

She closed her hand and punched him. His face snapped to the right side as he grunted, the smirk previously on his face dropping to a pained expression. “I'm not  _ that  _ nor would I ever be  _ that  _ for you. The thought of  **kissing** you alone makes me want to  _ Curcio _ myself.” 

Tom looked at her again. He felt instant pain on his jaw, the punch made his mouth move in a way it had never before. His hand flew to his cheek as he glared at her. “I'm,” he hissed at the pain he felt from moving his jaw, “I am ―  _ hm _ ― glad you decided that we were on a fight.” She was very keen on using Muggle fight tactics to win arguments, normal wizards and witches only fought with their wands.

“You deserved that.”

He chuckled and moved his hand away from his jaw. “About the kissing, I thought you'd be smarter than to make such assumption considering what has happened between us.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows at him.  _ His magical fingers, his dick against her, the way his thumb moved against her nipple on the train, his lips... She wished he'd do more than that.  _ “Nothing really ever...” she started and he raised his eyebrows at her, “I am angry about letting you do all those... things.”

“I'm sure your anger is your brain's way of saying _ 'shag him', _ ” he argued, biting his lip, “and because you can't do that, you just ― ” he moved his jaw wider and groaned, “punch me ― or throw potions at me ― even  _ Crucio _ me.”

“If I wanted...” she gulped, “ ― we would have done it already,” she replied, her eyes glancing to the spot on his jaw that was starting to get red.

Tom clenched his jaw. “I highly doubt that.”

Jennifer widened her eyes ― he was challenging her, she could see it in his eyes. “If,” she started placing her hand on his shoulder and curling her fingers around it, “we were to ― I don't know ― kiss again ― alone ― do you think you'd be able to hold yourself?”

He glanced at her hand and raised his right one to grab her hair, turning them around. She gasped at the sting it caused on her head but didn't move her hand away from his shoulder.  _ He seemed to enjoy pulling her hair.  _ “What makes you think I want to kiss  _ you _ again?”

“If you don't feel anything by it like you say, what would be the matter?” she asked, pushing him closer by his shoulder. She had no idea what she was doing, there was always an urge of confidence that came over her when she saw a tiny bit of  _ vulnerability _ on him.

“I didn't say that I didn't feel anything, just that I don't care.” He untangled his hand from her hair, ripping some from the root because her hair was a mess to which she didn't react to. Not caring about that, Tom dropped his hand, the hairs slipping off his hand before he raised his hand to open her robe again. “You, on the other hand, I have read your mind a few times and you think differently from what you say...” he pushed her shirt from underneath her skirt, “you imagine us doing things I ― you ― you should really go snog some boys.”

“We ― ” Jenny's knees buckled as his hand touched her bare waist. “I am not interested in them.”

He licked his lips as his hand went to her back and up. “I know.”

“You're ― ” his fingers found the back of her bra and as she was expecting he unclipped it. “It's not about you...”

He removed his hand from underneath her shirt and slipped her robe from around her shoulders, it fell to the ground with a thud. “What do you mean?” he asked, starting to unbutton her shirt.

“I'm just ― I'm 17 and haven't done anything ― I've never,” she licked her lips, “I'm just quite randy, really.”

He hummed as he unbuttoned the last button. “Not for me, though?” He tugged on her tie and took it off before slipping her shirt from her shoulder too ― it fell behind her feet when he tugged it off her wrists.

“No!” she quickly replied. “Not for you. Just ―  _ Tom _ ,” she gasped as he slipped her bra down her arms and threw it to his side. 

“Just anyone ― not any specific boy,” he clarified for her.

She nodded and put her hair forward so it would cover her breasts ― it didn't work, “yes, yes, that. You're ― you...” His hands were on her waist again and going up to her breasts.

“What about me?” he asked as both his hands grabbed her breasts.

She widened her eyes and her cheeks were redder than ever before in her life. She still wasn't sure about what was happening. “You? I ― what?”

“You were saying something about me,” he said as he let his thumbs brush against her nipples repeatedly, he watched them get harder.

She moaned and struggled to find any coherent thoughts in her mind. She wanted to tell him how to move his hands better, but she wasn't sure how. “I ― yes, you ― you are convenient. You make me feel too ― too angry and it's something that mixes with...” she pushed her chest against his hands and he rubbed her nipples between his fingers. “We've ― we have some tension, right? It's not ― it could be with anyone.”

He kissed the left side of her jaw, leaving kisses as he went lower. “Tension?” he asked and she hummed in agreement. When he reached her upper chest, his back was too bent to be comfortable so he put his hands behind her tights and lifted her, her legs wrapped around his hips and her skirt rose slightly. “I don't feel a thing,” he replied as he went to wrap his lips around her right nipple.

She had never felt anything like that. “Fuck,” she moaned.

He sucked before lightly brushing his teeth on her. “Do you feel anything?” he asked, raising his head and meeting her eyes.

She didn't know if he was doing that on purpose, but it was working ― it was making her soaked on her pants. “I ― ”

Before she could answer he said, “right? Nothing.” His hand on the back of her tight travelled forward before moving up and underneath her skirt. “How much do you like these tights?”

Jennifer couldn't even remember what  _ tights _ were. “What ― ”

“Not at all? Me neither,” he said before she heard the sound of some fabric ripping. She gasped and widened her eyes. He ripped it until he could push it off her, just a bit of it remaining at her knees on both sides. 

“Did you just fucking ― ”

“Yes,” he answered.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him closer. “Twat.”

He glanced at her lips as he placed his hand on her above her knickers. “Don't you have a more original name for me?”

Jenny pushed against his hand and he didn't pull away, he rubbed her harder instead. She let her head fall on the wall behind her, whimpering because it was a stone wall. “Fuck,” she mumbled, pushing her head away from the wall.

Tom chuckled at that, pushing her harder against the wall to raise his left hand and brush against where she hit her head. “Sorry.”

“It ― It's... fine,” she replied, closing her eyes from the feeling of his hand on her hair.

His right hand was laying against her inner tight but moved between her legs again. “Any man in here would do it for you, right?” he asked, moving her knickers aside and touching her sex, between her lips.

She moaned and opened her eyes. “Tom, fuck.”

He moved his fingers up and down, feeling around. “It wasn't me who made you  _ this _ wet, anyone could do the exact same, right?” The hand on her hair grasped it and pulled.

Jennifer groaned and looked at him in the eyes. His eyes were nearly all black as he looked at her. “Shut up,” she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow at her and found her clit, starting to make circles on it. “Am I the first to touch you like this, Jenny?”

She arched her back and forced herself to not moan. “Fuck you.”

He leaned in to kiss her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on it. He could feel that his jaw was a bit sore, but he put that aside and sucked a mark on her neck. His fingers never stopped their movement on her clit, fastening their pace. “Am I?”

“You ― you know the ans ―  _ shit _ ,” she breathed out. His lips kissed their way until her collarbone, where he bit down. She moaned and pushed him away with a glare.

He laughed at her moved his fingers from her clit to her entrance, sliding one finger in. “Do I?”

Jennifer noticed that his finger almost felt like two of hers, also it moved in an angle that hers didn't. It was completely different. “Fucking shit.”

“Don't curse,” he mocked, “that's what bad girls do.” He moved his finger inside of her, getting used to how it felt before adding another one.

She gripped his shoulder as she felt a big stretch. “That...” It didn't hurt because she was already dripping, but it felt different.

“I know.” He leaned in to kiss her neck again, sucking at her pulse. It made her clench her legs against him and push her hips out. She wished he'd kiss her, but didn't find the courage to tell him.

“More,” she whispered, unsure how to say the exact words.

Tom started moving his fingers slowly as he continued to leave open mouth kisses now on her chest. He was having fun, exploring her reactions and how she felt, it was all quite new for him too ― the practice part, at least.

“Please, just...” she ground down on his hand but didn't feel what she was looking for. She was still shy ― shier than him ― and scared that if she said the exact words he'd mock her, she didn't know why.

He pulled back as he sucked on her chest, his teeth around the skin. “What?” he asked, breathless. 

“I...” she licked her lips and moved her hips. “Tom...”

He chuckled. “I can't guess everything, Jenny,” he replied as he moved his fingers slowly inside her.

“See ― see what I'm thinking.”

“No. Say it,” he said, moving his left hand away from her hair to her cheek, to make her look directly at him again. “Say it.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You're smart. You know.”

His hand moved away from her and suddenly he was grabbing her again, to place her on the stone floor next to them. It was colder than the wall. Her eyes opened at that and she watched him take his robes off before leaning on her again. “Tell me.”

She got to her elbows. “I'm ― I'm scared,” she said, looking at him as he pushed her skirt off her.

He laughed at that and threw the skirt somewhere before pulling the ruined tights off her. “Of what?”

“O ― of that! You ― you always laugh like that, I ― I feel like you're ― you laugh at me,” she explained.

“I don't.” He bit his lower lip and pushed her knickers off her legs, she instantly brought her knees together.

“You do,” she murmured in a low voice.

Tom looked at her in the eyes again. She looked genuinely worried, it was an emotion he recognized after years of watching her fail at talking to teachers and their mates. “I'm...” he placed his hands on her knees, “You're Jennifer Garrick, you don't get shy because of other people laughing, you laugh because of other's shyness. What's wrong now?”

“It's...” she gulped before opening her knees slightly, “it's you.”

He planted a kiss on her left knee. “Exactly.”

She gasped at what he said, she wasn't sure why. “You're Tom ― you've...”

“Are you scared?” he asked before kissing the other knee as well. 

She sat up, grabbing his face and moving to her knees. “Maybe.”

“You punched me,” he replied and then chuckled. “You've  _ Crucio-ed _ me.”

“You've ― your family,” she said back.

He sat down and grabbed her hips, pushing them down to the ground, she fell on top of him with a yelp as he laid on the ground. “You didn't run away.”

She felt his crotch against her leg. He was hard ― hard for her. It made her feel a bit better. “I'm not scared of what you'd do, more of what you'd say.”

He felt her put her knees on either side of him to steady herself. He used that to turn them around and make her stay underneath him. “About... your family?”

She looked down at them. “Bastard.”

He chuckled and then leaned in to kiss her neck again. “I know your mother hurts you, I know how she makes you feel,” he mumbled against her neck. He placed his hand on her tight again.

“Why'd you say it, then?” she asked.

Tom shrugged and moved his hand between her legs again, finding her clit easier that time. “To hurt you.”

“Merlin, that, do that when...” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“Say it,” he demanded rubbing her clit harder as his mouth kissed lower than before.

“Tom ― ”

“Say it,” he repeated, his lips circling around her nipple again.

“I...” she raised her hips as she felt herself nearing the edge. “Tom, I'm so close.”

“No,” he mumbled against her breast. He moved to the other to flick his tongue against it as he moved his fingers slower against her. “Don't cum.”

She moaned, never have thought about making herself  _ not _ orgasm, usually the opposite. “I don't ― how do I do tha ― that?” she asked, feeling her walls clench around nothing.

He moved his mouth lower, kissing her stomach. “Tell me what you want.” 

“Tom, I'm ― ”

He pulled his hand away from her and she raised her hips to find that pleasure again. “ _ No _ .”

She gasped. “Fuck you, fuck you ― ”

“Say it,” he mumbled against her hip before bitting the bone slightly. Jennifer moaned and unconsciously wrapped her leg around his shoulder. 

He pulled back and licked his lips before kissing her inner tight. Jenny squirmed from the feeling, not being used to it. “Tom, please, touch me again.” He sucked on her inner tight making her yelp. “Please, please, put ―  _ fuck, _ ” she whined, actually  _ whined _ .

It made Tom chuckle against her tight. “I wonder what sounds you'll make when I'm inside you.”

Jennifer widened her eyes and gasped. “You can't just say that.”

He smirked, an idea coming over him. He put his lips against her and let his tongue enter her, moving it up before pulling away, he had to hold her hips down. “Really?”

“Please...”

“You taste really good, do you wonder how I taste?” he asked, kissing her inner tight again.

She moaned, “ _ yes _ .” She squeezed her eyes tightly after saying that, regretting it.

“You want to suck my dick?” he asked, moving his mouth to her other inner tight.

“Tom,” she called.

He shook his head and pulled back. “One day I'll fuck you to it.”

Before she could even process what he said, his mouth moved to her sex again. His tongue moved inside her, feeling around. His hands went to her hips, holding her down against the floor as he moved his tongue to her clit, sucking on it as he flicked his tongue. That did it for her, she grabbed his head with her right hand and grabbed his hair, using her hold to make him move on the right spot. “Tom, I'm ― can I cum now, please ― fuck ― ”

He moaned against her from her request, he didn't think she'd actually ask. He nodded against her death grip on his head and heard her nearly scream before coming. Her back arched off the floor and her mouth was widely opened, in an almost unflattering way. He continued sucking on her clit until she relaxed her grip on his head. He breathed heavily, finally getting enough oxygen. “That was so hot,” he said.

She opened her eyes and let go of the grip on his hair.  _ No. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer seems to be less excited than Tom about what happened... And, the detention is only starting.


	10. Friends forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Year Jennifer is struggling at school, not class-related struggles, people related and makes new friends.

** 9th January 1939, _First Year_**

Tom was different depending on who he was talking to. Jennifer noticed it as they sat for lunch, dinner, in classes, on the common room, whenever he talked to certain people his personality seemed to shift. To teachers, he was respectful and smart, yet always with a smile on his face. To others, he was always very... secretive, he didn't talk much to anyone besides an exclusive group of people he seemed to have liked in the first months. Jennifer wondered if he did it on purpose, especially because he always seemed serious as if concentrating on something. What she knew about him that far was that he liked spending his time on the library (he was there all the time) and that he hated her for no reason ― she hadn't forgotten the altercation in the library, of course. He never showed any signs that he didn't fancy her, so how could he abruptly just... 

She tried to forget all of that. She wanted to get back at him, she wanted to show him that she wasn't just someone he could mess around. Whether it was her urge to prove herself ― not having friends, even though she was one of the most respectful Purebloods names ― or her desire for revenge, she didn't know. She had one thought on her mind most of the time, and she willed to follow it. _Make him hurt like he did._

“Hi.” Jennifer looked up from her table in the library and saw a dark-skinned girl with puffy hair, grinning at her. Her hands were grabbing each other in front of her while her shoulders were relaxed.

“Hello?” she greeted, straightening her back.

The girl nodded and dragged the chair in front of Jennifer back to sit in it. “Fun so far...”

She gulped and raised her eyebrows. “Pardon?”

“Nothing. I'm Willow,” she said giggling.

Jenny licked her lips and nodded. “I know.”

“You are?” she questioned.

“Jennifer.”

“Right! Sorry, I wasn't remembering. Uh...”

“What ― ”

Willow placed her hands on the table, making a loud noise. “Me and my friend, Felicity, we were wondering why you never really spoke up,” she explained, looking straight at Jennifer who was struggling to maintain eye contact, “not during classes or to us ― by that I mean, the girls.”

Jennifer tilted her head to the side. She never saw herself as someone who people considered left out, she was just there. The others' conversations didn't interest her so she didn't mind stepping into them - also, that was something her mother said was rude. But, others did it ― a lot.

Although it was the First Year, everyone was already making friends that they said were for life, having small fights and even dating ― that didn't last too long anyway. Jennifer, however, she didn't identify with it, she was feeling peaceful alone ― at home, she didn't get to be alone and at peace, she was always worried about doing something wrong.

“Anyway,” Willow spoke when Jennifer didn't reply, “We share a dorm, we should all be friends. Imagine how rad that will be in the future.”

Jennifer furrowed her eyebrows at that.

“We could all live in a big house together someday,” she murmured while giggling. When she stopped laughing and looked at Jennifer, seeing her uninterested face, dropped her smile. “I really ― we aren't weird, like the boys, we are nice and... we won't hurt you, you know.”

Jennifer chuckled, “the boys won't hurt me either.”

“Yes, but boys are gross and stupid, ” she said with a straight face, “we are clean and pretty. What's better than that?”

Jennifer didn't consider the boys _gross_ and _stupid_ , but she didn't think to oppose her. “I... What are you asking me?”

Willow looked down and licked her lips. “Hang out with us,” she looked up, “― at the common room. Let's just... **talk**. Other Years usually talk to us too, they're nice ― everyone loves talking about ― you know ― their future jobs, who they fancy and stuff.”

Jennifer shrugged. “Sure.”

Willow smiled brightly at her. “Alright, Jennifer, maybe tomorrow night? It's Tuesday, but ―”

“It's fine.”

Willow nodded. “Fine.”

Jennifer wasn't looking forward to it, _at all._

* * *

** 10th January 1939, _First Year_ **

Jennifer sat down on the ground, leaning against one of the couches as she crossed her legs. Some girl was telling a story about having seen two professors kissing, it was a highly doubtable story. She looked around and saw Willow, the girl who approached her the day before, walking towards the circle.

She sat next to Jennifer. “Hi, Jennifer.”

“Hey, Willow.”

“Didn't think you'd be here if I'm honest,” Willow confessed, crossing her legs.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

“This my friend,” she pointed to the girl who Jenny didn't notice before, “Felicity.”

The girl waved at Jenny, “how's it going?”

“Fine,” Jenny replied.

“That's... yeah,” Felicity said, looking back to the girl telling the story.

Willow chuckled. “She loves gossiping.”

Jennifer nodded and sucked on her bottom lip. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, _she wasn't going to talk_ , she had no stories to tell. She looked to her right and saw Felicity completely smitten over the story that girl was saying while Willow was looking at her, shaking her head. 

As that girl's story was finished and everyone was shocked and laughing, Willow spoke up. “Had you guys seen Jennifer?” she asked.

Jennifer widened her eyes and looked around. Willow didn't seem to be ashamed of talking over everyone else and say something ― Jennifer wouldn't do such... unladylike thing.

“She's a First Year, too.” Willow smiled at Jennifer.

Some people said hello while others just rolled their eyes. She was sure that her cheeks were redder than they had ever been. “Hi,” she greeted.

The attention was taken away from her when a group of boys joined the circle, making it be rearranged. She noticed it was Tom and his friends ― _or whatever they were_. As she was staring at him, he glanced back, but his facial expression didn't change at all. 

“We should play that game we played on Halloween,” a boy of those who joined in, Lestrange, suggested with a smirk.

People complained, mostly the girls.

“What's that game?” Jennifer asked and people were looking at her again.

“Some sort of kissing game,” a girl, a bit older than the others replied.

Felicity snorted, “it's more than a kissing game, Nadia.”

“Basically,” Willow started, getting to her knees, “everyone puts their hand in the middle and the last has to kiss whoever the first to put their hand says.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “Right...” She had never kissed anyone, but she didn't care to do so either. The thought that it wasn't what her mother would like made it more exciting. “It's not that bad.”

“You won't like it when it's you, though,” some guy said.

“I don't mind,” Lestrange interjected, “I volunteer.”

“Do we have to kiss girls too?” a blonde girl asked.

“Of course!” Willow shouted. “It should be easier.” She licked her lips. 

The girl groaned and so did some people.

“I don't want to kiss a boy,” Lestrange said with a wrinkled face.

“Don't be last then,” Felicity replied and then looked down.

“Also! Besides choosing who you kiss, the person also chooses if it's a big or small kiss and where it is,” Willow explained, leaning forward slightly, “let's start.”

“Where it is?” Jennifer wondered. She heard someone snicker but didn't notice who it was.

“Yes, people kiss each other in different places,” Willow replied.

Lestrange leaned forward too. “Have you never kissed anyone?”

“We're 12,” Felicity shrieked, “a lot of people here haven't kissed anyone. Also, it's a game, so the kiss doesn't count.”

“Stop talking, let's start,” Tom said, also leaning forward as he got to his knees.

Jennifer bit down on her lip. Who hadn't already, leaned forward, making everyone be so-and-so at the same distance. The first time, everyone jolted so quickly Jennifer thought she would be the last one, but she wasn't. Lestrange was, it seemed to be on purpose, though. The first one was a blonde guy who immediately smirked at him. 

“Don't choose a guy or I'll do it for you too,” he quickly replied.

“Please, Malfoy, I'll pay you,” Avery said excitedly, “make him kiss a boy.”

Malfoy's raised his eyebrows at Avery. “Really?”

Avery widened his eyes. “Not like that!”

“Lestrange,” Malfoy looked around, “kiss Avery on... the cheek.”

They both groaned.

“I was nice!” he exclaimed with a smile.

They were next to each other so Lestrange simply leaned forward and did what he was told. “I hate this game,” he whined. Avery wiped his cheek.

Everyone leaned forward again and the last was Jennifer. She was still surprised by how quickly everyone placed their hands. The first was Malfoy again, he had a good reaction time. “Well... I don't know you. Anyone wants to suggest someone?” he asked. No one replied to him. “Well... just...” he looked around, “kiss Rosier, I guess.”

“She's my cousin, Abraxas,” he complained.

Malfoy widened his eyes. “Oh, ok, So ― hm ― well, kiss Avery, he got it bad last round.”

Avery smiled. “On the mouth?”

“Yeah.”

Jennifer went over to the other side of the circle on her knees, staying in front of Avery. “How long?”

“It's your first time playing, so a peck.”

She nodded and leaned in to give him a peck on the mouth. He barely had time to respond before she pulled back and went back to her seat. “Well, even Lestrange's was nicer,” he mumbled. She looked down and blushed as some people laughed. 

“And we all know why...” Tom replied with a smile. People laughed again but at Lestrange instead of at her.

She looked up to glance at him who looked back with a neutral expression again.

“Anyway, third round,” Willow announced.

That round someone she didn't know was last and had to kiss someone she also didn't know. It was boring seeing others make out, she figured. She was never the first nor the last so the rest of the game was a bit stupid for her to participate in. She realized hanging out wasn't really her thing, but _the girls she met were nice_ for her.

As everyone went to their respective dorms, she got up and sat on the couch. She was surprised to see Tom walking towards her.

“Miss me?” Jennifer asked, not sure where that snapping question came from.

He sat next to her. “Didn't know you had friends.”

She clenched her jaw. “Why would you care?”

“I don't,” he replied, shrugging. “Just thought it was funny to see you try to interact with people. You were uptight all game, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Were you even in it?”

“Forgot the part where I won... twice?” he asked.

Jennifer got up and turned to look at him, her hands went to her hips. “Why are you talking to me? You told _me_ to stay away.”

“You don't want to do that, though,” he replied.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “How would you even know?”

“I had a feeling,” he shrugged as he got up.

“You're just saying that,” she said, straightening herself. 

He smiled at her and it made her cross her arms in front of herself. “Think of a number.”

She chuckled. “What? Are you gonna try to guess it?”

“Think of a number,” he repeated.

“You have 0 chances of guessing it,” she argued, “it's pointless.”

“Just think of a number,” he pressed, nodding slightly. “Written.”

She uncrossed her arms and adjusted her hair. _Six-hundred thousand, five hundred and seventy._ “I've ― ”

“Six-hundred thousand, five hundred and seventy,” he repeated an exact copy of what she thought.

Jennifer widened her eyes and stepped back. He had gotten in her head at the library and was, then, reading what she thought. She wasn't dumb, she knew of **Legilimency** , her cousin was an expert at it, it seemed to be a born-with skill, she only knew what it exactly was when she read it in the library in Hogwarts, but she didn't give it too much thought. _It was magic_. Herself, she never tried to do such a thing, she didn't even know where to start from. She supposed _it wasn't something for everybody._

“You know what it is?” he asked, surprised.

“I am more knowledgable than what you think, Tom,” Jennifer replied, taking a step towards him.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “How doesn't it make you curious?”

She shrugged. “My head is already enough, I don't wish to see others.”

“You can control it,” he argued.

Jennifer chuckled. “It can happen randomly, you know? My cousin gets that and, well, it's not the best feeling, she said.”

Tom snorted. “Your cousin is weak ― just like you ― it runs in the family.”

Jennifer stared at him, not having something to say back. 

“Your weakness is the reason you're so scared of your mother and the reason she...” he looked her up and down, “she does whatever it is she does.”

She scowled. “You know nothing.”

“I know everything,” he replied and pointed at her, “I know all that you think, everything ― even the thoughts without words ― I can read them.”

“Just because you know what I'm thinking doesn't mean you understand it,” she snapped with a gulp.

“Oh, trust me, I do,” he snapped back. Tom walked toward her and placed his finger on her forehead, her mouth moved to a horizontal line as all muscles of her face tightened. “I can make amazing things happen too, you know,” he told her and suddenly she saw black, she felt that her eyes were open so she was confused, “I can see your best dreams.”

Suddenly she saw a house, a much smaller house than hers, two people were in front of it. As she travelled floating towards it she saw her parents, they were both happy, hugging each other. 

“I can make all of that feel real,” he whispered, next to her ear.

She felt her feet hit the ground and they both pulled her into a hug. She felt two kisses on the top of her head. “It's not real, though,” she whispered. 

“It feels real,” he whispered again and she could feel a bit of his hair brushing against her cheek.

Her parents pulled back and dragged her inside, the house was more comfortable than hers, it felt more cluttered, but at least, she could feel that people lived there. There were portraits and pictures on the wall of her and her parents ― not of old family members like in her house ― they were moving with life and looking at her directly in the eyes. Her mother brushed her hand on her hair and she couldn't help but close her eyes at the feeling. “ _It's not real_ ,” she whispered to herself.

Tom removed his finger from her forehead, but she could still see everything, feel everything when she opened her eyes. Her father said he loved her and her mother said how proud she was of her. Then it was all gone, she was in the common room with Tom who had his body against hers.

She pushed him away and had to brush away the tears starting to fall. “Why did you do that?”

“Just wanted you to...” he licked his lips, “I know you wanted that.”

 _Want._ “You aren't nice, not this nice. You ― you did ― at the library ―”

“It was a bad way to ― ” Tom looked down. “I thought you were too... too much,” he said, but not with the right words.

“You told me I was too perfect.”

“You _are_.” He had no idea why he made her feel... good. It wasn't his intentions, he was going to flip that image, terrorize her, but then her happiness made something inside him not want to do **that**. Her dream made him happy too ― made him wish it, not having a family himself. He hadn't let himself consider that he wanted that, he was too focused to get back at people or just making them feel bad, that made him feel something ― made him proud of himself. _That was the only feeling he ought to feel. It was the one that mattered._

“You saw my worst nightmare, you know I am not,” she chuckled, “you saw my mother.”

“You aren't your mother, not yet. Even though, she probably wants that.”

Jennifer furrowed her eyebrows. “She just wants me to do the best choices, she doesn't want me to be _her_.”

Tom shook his head. “You can have quite a thick skull sometimes,” he muttered and ran away towards his dorm.

“Tom!” she called, but he didn't look back. 

_He could be quite unpredictable sometimes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One surprise certainly changed young Jennifer's view of Tom, will there be more?


	11. Hot & Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the detention, Jennifer realizes what happened while Tom remains unbothered... sort of.

**25th January 1944, S _ixth Year_**

Tom watched as Jennifer's eyes widened, previously displaying pleasure. She looked behind him where her clothes were all over the floor and dragged herself back with her hands. He glanced down at her naked body which made her try to cover herself with her hands. “Why are you doing that?” he asked.

She licked her lips and gulped. “Can ― can you pass me my clothes?”

He rolled his eyes at her stutter and got up to grab her clothes. When he collected them, he threw them at her. She grabbed them and started dressing again. “Do you regret it?”

She didn't answer, just continued dressing. Tom chuckled and sat down against the wall. He tried to stay calm, considering she had been telling him that he was double-faced all over the years that they knew each other. It was as if she didn't know herself, _one second she was going against him and throwing random arguments, the other she was ignoring him and stuttering_ he had to clench his jaw every time to not tell that to her. She would tell him that she was right and he was keeping a **facade** towards everyone _which was true._

Jennifer finished dressing. She looked at Tom who had been staring at her as she got dressed, making it harder for her to ignore him. “Would you stop staring?” she asked as her eyes moved to the floor.

He was sitting across from her, leaning against the wall, as she was standing up, after having put her skirt on. “Would you stop ignoring me?”

She glanced down at the floor and then stepped towards him. “I'm not.”

He licked his lips, still feeling a bit of her arousal on his mouth when he swallowed. “You taste good, did you know?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Wha' did ya jus' say,” she struggled through her words. The speed at that her cheeks got red was a record.

He smirked at himself. “I could ask you the same thing, you stuttered a bit there, Jenny.”

“N ― No,” she replied quickly, rolling her eyes. “That was an accident.”

“Isn't stuttering always an accident?” Tom wondered. “You do it all the time, you should know,” he added before she could say anything.

Jennifer sighed. “What just happened,” she said through her teeth slowly, it seemed that she was trying not to stutter, “the floor thing,” she pointed somewhere behind her.

“The 'licking you' thing?” he asked.

“Stop that ― stop embarrassing me.”

“It happened,” he replied shrugging.

She looked away, blinking faster. “It shouldn't have.”

“Did you not like it?”

“I...” Jennifer looked at him again and tilted her head. She wasn't answering but wasn't looking away either, he concluded that she was thinking about something.

“Do you want more?” he found himself asking. _It wasn't as if they would be leaving in less than 8 hours, and he was still hard._

Jennifer shook her head slowly.

His breaths became deeper as he just wanted to get up and kiss her. But, he held himself, he was used to it. An idea came to him as he felt his cock twitch. “Suit yourself.” He extended his legs and unbuttoned his trousers, her eyes widened but she didn't look away. 

“What are ― ” she cut herself off when he touched himself over his pants.

He didn't hold the groan that formed on his throat. “I always have to ― to do this because of you.”

Jennifer took a step forward. “Do ― do you?”

“Yes,” he whispered as he took himself out of his pants, stroking up and down. He groaned as a bit of pre-cum slid off the tip. 

Her eyes looked as if they were going to slid off if she widened them farther. It was clear to him that she hadn't seen that before. “I...” she whispered as she looked to the floor to avoid to see what was happening in front of her.

“Fuck, Jenny,” he moaned, using the pre-cum as lubrification to stroke himself faster. 

She looked back at him, her lips pressed together. “S ― stop.”

Tom breathed out and his hips twitched forward. “Look away.”

She didn't.

He closed his eyes, imagining that his hand was Jennifer's, conforming to what she wanted. _Maybe she'd use her mouth too_ , he was sure that would feel better, his friends talked about as if it was like perfecting wandless magic. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbled, hoping it would eager her. He knew how to be silent, sharing a dorm taught him that ― _not that he did it a lot_ ― it just wasn't what powerful wizards, who Tom aspired to be, did ― _surrender to their baser urges._ He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Jennifer walking closer to him, he opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his wrist. “Jennifer?”

She was kneeling between his legs, that had opened as he pleasured himself and had her lower lip between her teeth. “Let me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

His hand slid off himself and she wrapped her hand around him, making him moan. “Move, _move_ , Jenny, stroke ― ”

She moved up and down like she saw him do, “like that?”

Tom nodded and dropped his head to the stone wall behind him. “Yeah...”

She moved her hand up and down faster, his hips moving up erratically which ruined her pace a bit. 

His hand found her shoulder and he gripped it as he brought her closer to him. “Jen ― Jenny ― Jennifer ― ”

“What? What is it, Tom?” she asked, breathless.

“I'm going ― I don't know if― please ― ” he stuttered, not sure how to put the words together. 

“Are you close?” she asked, planting a kiss on his cheek, Tom noticed she had never done it in the 6 years they knew each other. She continued kissing him, her kisses trailing towards his neck. 

“Yes,” he moaned, arching his back.

“Then, come for me, _Riddle_ ,” she replied before sucking on his neck.

He raised his hips and came on her hand, her movements slowed down but didn't stop until he stopped convulsing. It was the best orgasm he had ever had, at least the one he didn't felt bad for having. 

Jennifer dug her teeth on his neck as she pulled back from the sucking she had been doing. “Merlin's fucking pants, your neck.”

Tom moaned back, still with his eyes closed.

“It looks good, though, _don't_ cover it up,” she advised.

He felt her lips on his neck again, and her tongue slipped out of her mouth to help with the sucking motion she did. She pulled back and slid down to his collarbone. He could feel her knees against his left tight as she left marks all over his neck. “Jenny,” he whispered as he slid a hand through her messy blonde curls.

She pulled back, making a lewd noise, and looked at him. “They're going to wonder what we did in here.”

He opened his eyes and saw that her lips were a bit swollen. “You were amazing,” he told her.

She glanced down and back up with red cheeks. “Hm, yeah,” she glanced down, “you ― you too.”

He looked down and tucked himself inside his pants again, doing his trousers after. He noticed that some of his cum had stained his trousers and he didn't have a wand to clean it. He brushed it with his hand. “What are you going to do with your hand?" he asked.

She raised her hand and wrinkled her face at the sight of it. “I didn't even notice.”

Tom licked the fingers he used to brush his cum off his trousers. She noticed it, of course, and gulped. “Do you want ― ” he stopped talking when she licked her thumb carefully.

Jennifer licked her lips. “Mine is better,” she blurted and then looked to the side as she cleaned her hand.

Tom looked at her with wide eyes. “It _is_.” If had continued staring at her, he'd have gotten aroused again so he looked away.

When she looked at him again she was brushing her hand on her skirt and sighed. “I had never done that before.”

He nodded and placed his hands on her waist. “Me neither.”

She looked down at her position on top of his left leg and raised herself to place her left knee on the outside of his right tight. “How'd you — ” she looked at him.

“Yes?”

“How'd you know how to talk — hmm — you know — ” she shrugged. “It's so...”

“I have read some books on the library, they are more explicit than what you would think,” he answered, “— the guys also say some of those words. Besides, you understand what I mean so you know it too.”

“I've — my cousin is quite mouthy,” she explained with a chuckle. “She has always been.”

He licked his lips. “You could say more.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “About what?”

“During. You could say what you want me to do. It would help,” he stated, pushing her closer by her waist. _Was he saying they'd do it again? And she wasn't opposing?_

“You'd mock me,” she replied in a shrieked voice.

“Why do you keep thinking that?” he asked. “I just wanna make you feel **good** , Jenny.”

She gasped. “You're not like that, though. You're not that type of person ― you don't want people to,” she licked her lips, “to feel good.”

Tom looked at her lips and tried to hold himself from leaning in. He was convinced that the detention room was making him feel things he shouldn't have ― _it wasn't her and the sight of how good she looked and felt_ ― it was definitely the room. “I want to make ― ” he interrupted himself by biting down on his lower lip. He wanted to say that, for some reason, he wanted to make _her_ feel good, he wanted to feel good with her, Tom wanted her to know that he was attracted to her. But _she couldn't know it, she'd think that she was right_ ― as if what they had done didn't say it already.

“Tom?” she called.

He tightened his fingers on her back and sighed. “I think you should stop acting so innocent and naive because that's not you,” he told looking down at her skirt.

Jennifer placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself a bit away from him. “It's still me if I'm doing it. And, I don't know why it happens.”

He thought about being... **sympathetic** , and the fact that he did, made a chill ran through his body ― he couldn't be like that ― _he wasn't like that_. He glanced at her lips again, “sure, _Garrick_.”

She widened her eyes at the sight of the glare on his face and tried to push away from him, but his hand wrapped around her neck. “What ― what are you doing?”

Tom dug his fingers on the side of her neck. “I don't like you. What just happened was tension relief only.”

She tried to push away from him again. “I know it was,” she replied sharply, “let me go.”

“Answering back...” He eyed her up and down. “Feeling less like a failure?” he asked, gulping when he saw expression leaving her face. 

“Why are you ―” she visibly clenched her jaw, “you're such an _erratic fuck_.”

“No mo ― more than you,” he replied, dropping his hand.

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “You always do this. What's your problem with me?”

Tom's hand that had dropped from her throat joined the one on her waist but to push her away. Jennifer got up, straightening her skirt. “My.. problem,” he drawled the words trying to remember what his point was, he wanted her back on his lap so badly that he physically had to restrain himself from getting up, “my problem is that you keep acting so two-faced ― one second you're accusing me of things _I'm not going to mention_ , the other you're a fucking butterfly, afraid of everything ― of what I'd think or say.” He got up to stay at her eye level. “Do you know how infuriating that ― ”

“Infuriating, am I?! You're such a fucking nutter!” she yelled. “How dare ya, _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ ― and, yes, I memorized your stupid Muggle name ― call meh infuriatin'!”

He widened his eyes at her change of accent, forgetting about her mentioning his name and that it came from his father. “Well, you are. But, that's not really what I called you.”

“Oh, yeah, two-faced. Whatever that bloody means,” she exhaled, “you're walking around with that _prefect_ badge,” she glanced at the badge on his robes, “as if it defines you. When what you truly are is a psychopathic killer obsessed with blood purity.”

“Such harsh accusations from such a little girl,” he murmured calmly. He forced himself to remain calm so that it would irk her more.

“Go fuck yourself, twat,” she spitted out.

Tom chuckled at her. “Not stuttering anymore, are you?”

“No, I am not,” she said through gritted teeth. Then, she gasped. “Because you're making me angry, on purpose, and I know it,” she turned around and started walking, “Merlin's pants, I know you do this and I ― I keep falling for it.”

Tom licked his lips. “It's not my fault you're so emotional.”

Jennifer groaned. “Stop it, Tom. I'm done.”

He smirked. “Maybe that's why your mother thinks you're a failure.”

She stopped walking, already on the other side of the average size room. When she turned around she was glaring at him. His smirk dropped as he realized what he said. He knew, after 6 years, that out of everything he could say, that was the worst. Her breath quickened and she sat down against the wall behind her, looking down as she did. 

“ _Je ― enny_ ― ” he called, his voice cracking.

“Don't call me that!” she snapped, closing her eyes.

“Is that _honestly_ all it takes to make you lose your arguments?” he asked, keeping his unbothered face.

“I didn't lose my arguments,” she calmly replied.

Tom laughed at her. “Maybe you're not pretending to be a nervous little shit, maybe that's what you in fact are.” She groaned loudly. “Those brave long answers you give are you faking to be someone you're not.” 

“I'm tired, Riddle, I am so bloody tired of you,” she whined.

Tom found himself with no smart answers so he went with what he first thought of saying. “Didn't look like it a few minutes ago,” he murmured.

“Don't ―” she opened her eyes and looked up at him, “don't fucking talk about that right now. ”

“Would you prefer later, in front of Felicity who trusts you not to be fucking around with the person she likes?” he provoked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not now nor ever. This didn't happen. You hear me, _Riddle_?” 

“I do, doesn't mean I care.”

“Well, you have to,” she said, rolling her eyes, “you're smart, funny, nice Tom Riddle, you have to keep it up and not talk about how you ― ” she cleared her throat, “what you did to me or what I did to you,” he opened his mouth to talk, but she continued, “you have Felicity, she's in love with you, and you're going to 'fall',” she quoted with her fingers, “for her, she'll help you keep up that facade while you get what you want. I just stall you ― for Salazar's sake, you're in detention because of me ― ”

“So, you admit ― ”

“I don't care. Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone and then you can get the magical world all for yourself to spread your blood purity ideals to,” she said.

“Thought you hated those ideals,” he snorted.

“I've dealt with them for 17 years; I can handle it. And, it's not like you're going to achieve it.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “You have no idea what I want to _achieve_ ,” he argued, “as you put it.” 

“I don't care,” she replied and looked away from him.

“Jennifer,” he called. “Garrick,” he called again louder.

She didn't say anything and ignored him. Tom rolled his eyes and decided to lay down, to try to sleep his away out of that situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Jennifer ignoring him, will Tom regret what he said? Or will he just ignore her as well?


	12. Overreacting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Jennifer deal with the aftermath of everything.

The sound of a loud banging noise woke both Jennifer and Tom up, they opened their eyes and rolled on their backs, feeling sore from the hard floor they had been sleeping in for a few hours. Jennifer moaned as she got to a sitting position, pushing her skirt down until it covered her knees. While Tom immediately got up and walked towards the door that had magically appeared.

“There's no one on the other side,” he stated as he looked through a hole in between the lines of wood that the door was made of.

Jennifer got up and turned to face Tom. “Who made that noise then?”

He turned to look at her, doing it for a few seconds before answering, “I don't know.”

“Well,” she yawned and look through the small window, “it's morning already.”

“Are you talking to me now?” he asked, continuing to inspect the hole in the door. 

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Acting as if I'm the one to blame,” she puffed.

“You were the one who got all grumpy,” he argued.

“Because of you!” she exclaimed placing her hands on her hips.

“I always do that, you should be used to it.”

“That's a dumb argument.”

“Is it now?” he mumbled and turned around. “What did you think, huh? That I'd be all _lovey-dovey_ with you just because I licked your cunt?” 

Jennifer gasped at his use of language. “Don't talk like that!” she angrily muttered, sounding like how her mother yelled at her when she did something 'wrong'.

He rolled his eyes in response. “I ―”

“And,” she interrupted him with another raise of her voice, “no, I did not think you'd be all,” she gulped, “ _lovey-dovey_ towards me just because of what happened between us a few hours ago.”

“Such an intellectual, are you?” he asked rhetorically, walking towards her.

“As a matter of fact ―”

“Drop it,” he said, “you can't even say what we did. Don't have any cute, little terms for it, do you? You're such a hypocrite.”

“How am I a hypocrite?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and taking a step towards him. 

He glanced down and bit down on his lip. “Said you wouldn't talk to me like that anymore, what are you doing now?”

“You started,” she yelled, bending her knees slightly. “I could fucking punch you again.” As that phrase left her mouth her eyes moved to the spot in his jaw that was already purple, it wasn't a small bruise, it could be easily seen.

“Well then do it,” he dared, standing closer to her.

Then Jennifer's eyes moved lower and she gasped at the sight of the hickeys she had made on his neck. 

Tom raised his hand to touch his jaw and winced. “Actually, don't.”

Unconsciously, she raised her hand and touched his neck, he didn't stop her. “Don't cover it,” she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows at her and then felt a moan form on his throat when she pressed down on the hickeys. He could see that she wasn't thinking through about what she was doing or saying otherwise she would have been blushing and pulling away from him. 

“They make you look so hot,” she continued and licked her lips.

“You like marking me?” he asked lowly, on her tone.

She looked at him in the eyes. “I like how they look...”

“Yeah?” he asked in a whisper.

Jennifer nodded and glanced at his lips.

Tom closed his eyes and felt the hand on his neck move to his jaw. Before he could feel her lips on his, the door opened, making them both pull away. When he opened his eyes he saw that Jennifer was standing in front of him with a blush and her hands behind herself. He turned to the side to face the caretaker who was glaring at them. He definitely wouldn't forget the smirk that formed on Mr Pringle's mouth when he saw his jaw. Tom moved his robes to cover his neck before he could notice them ― if he hadn't already. Then he looked at the right side of the room where Jennifer's ruined tights still laid. His smirk turned into a grin.

“Your detention is over,” he announced, looking from Tom to Jennifer, “it's a shame I couldn't actually _punish_ you.”

Tom glanced at Jennifer and watched her widen her eyes as she rolled her shoulders backwards, meaning she was straightening her back. He moved closer to her, “but you can't, the Headmaster was explicit about our punishment. As I am a prefect, he decided not to punish _us_ physically.”

“Well, it isn't him who decides punishments. What he says goes through me,” he told them, but still eyeing Jennifer.

Jennifer leaned towards Tom who placed a hand on her back. “We ― we know.”

He laughed, showing his rotten teeth, “if ― when I see that you misbehaved _again_ , I won't hold back.”

Tom cleared his throat and slid his hand so that it laid on her right side, pushing her closer to him. “As expected. It is your job, after all... sir.”

Pringle looked away from Jennifer to Tom. “It is, Mr Riddle.”

Jennifer gulped. She didn't understand how Tom could be so calm in situations like that, she would be jumping off the window that couldn't even be opened if she was there alone. “De ― detention is over, isn't it?”

Pringle hummed and turned around. “It is. Go to your respective dorms to get ready for school. You have 20 minutes.”

“Twenty ―” she started yelling but shut up when he glanced back at her. “Yes, Mr Pringle, we will.” Her hair looked like it had a birds nest in it as she smelled worse than she had ever smelled in her life, she didn't know how Tom could be close to her still. It was probably because he also smelled bad. 

When they got outside Jennifer breathe the fresh in, feeling the anxious feeling leaving her body. Tom removed his hand from her back and watched at Pringle walked away, glancing back to grin at Tom. “We should get going,” he told Jennifer who was hugging her robes close to her body. 

“Yes,” she groaned and walked around Tom to start pacing quickly to the dungeons.

He turned around to follow her. _That was a fun night._

* * *

It was a big school, but the information came to the right people quickly. Soon, nearly everyone in — _only where she knew_ — Slytherin knew that Tom and she had spent the night in detention. There were speculations that they got punished physically or that they had engaged in certain... activitieswhile in there. Neither Jennifer nor Tom fed the rumours and remained quiet.

_Well, at least they tried..._

“You were on detention alone with _him_?” Willow asked, raising her eyebrows.

Jennifer felt her cheeks hotter as she remembered all that happened in the room. She looked down at her food and hummed. “Yes.”

Felicity clenched her jaw at Jennifer and faked a smile. “Surprised you didn't kill each other.”

When Jenny looked at Felicity she could see the look of disapproval on her face. She seemed mad, even though _she_ was the one who went on a date with Tom. “I punched him,” she told with a chuckle.

“That explains the bruise on his jaw...” Alta mumbled. 

Jennifer put some food in her mouth as she looked at where Tom was sitting. He hadn't magically made those bruises disappear and let them stay as she had asked in the heat of the moment. Of course, people could only see the one on his jaw because his robes could hide his neck. She licked her lips at the thought that she knew others were there — _if_ _he had kept them._ Something inside her said that he had.

Felicity relaxed her face a bit. “Did he deserve it?”

Jennifer snorted. “Totally.”

“Tom's so perfect, how did he make you mad enough to punch him?” Felicity asked.

Jennifer bit her lower lip. “Well, you don't know him.”

“And you do?” Alta wondered with a laugh. “He doesn't seem to care about you enough to make you mad. You probably overreacted,” she trailed off drinking some water.

Jennifer had to hold herself from not throwing a fork at Alta and stabbing her eye with it.

Felicity shrugged. “I agree. He's so calm and collected. There's no way he would have made you so angry that your only option was to punch him —”

“I mean, who even punches someone,” Alta murmured, “that's so manly and disgusting...”

Jennifer dug on her steak harshly as she cut it.

Willow noticed it and placed a hand on her arm. “Don't get mad, we just... I am sure you had good reasoning.”

She chewed her meat with a glare on her face.

“And, I do hope that's all that happened,” Felicity said with a smile.

Jennifer smiled back. “Of course it was.”

“I mean, ” she licked her lips, “it's not as if I have no reason to be suspicious...” 

Jennifer did all her best to not let a 'glare' show on her face but failed. “Why is that, Felicity?” she asked bitterly.

Willow looked between them with furrowed eyebrows. “There's no need to talk at Felicity like that, ” she intervened with a nervous chuckle.

“Don't worry I won't hurt your girlfriend,” Jennifer answered without looking away from Felicity.

Alta gave a half laugh half snort as she dropped her knife and fork. “ _Please_...”

Willow gulped and looked away with a blush. “It's not like that. I am her best friend, I care about her.”

Felicity laughed. “You wouldn't be able to hurt me. I can defend myself very well.”

“Don't — don't fight over a boy, it's pointless, ” Willow said.

“I'm not,” Jennifer argued, “I'm asking her why she's implying that something happened between us during detention.”

Felicity tilted her head to the side. “Are you now?”

“Yes,” she exhaled, “it's as if you're insecure. Do you think he doesn't like you?” 

“I definitely don't think he likes _you,_ ” she spitted the last word as if it disgusted her. 

Jennifer felt a feeling on her chest foreign to her and that she didn't like. She couldn't be feeling bad about what Felicity said — _she didn't even matter to Tom —_ not that she cared if Felicity was important to Tom _, she did not._ “I don't care,” she replied more quickly than she would have liked, “he can lo — love you for all I care.”

“Gla-dly,” Felicity said.

“Just stop with those remarks,” Willow groaned, “Jennifer doesn't care about him. End of talk.”

Felicity nodded. “Like I said, gladly.”

Jennifer chuckled as shook her head. “ _Gladly_ ,” she repeated in a whisper.

The fact that people though Tom and Jennifer had gotten beaten up by the caretaker was emphasized by the mark on Tom's neck. Jennifer's only marks were a faint hickey on her neck that she could easily cover with her hair and one on her tight that she kept trying to press on, feeling a shot of arousal every time. 

_But, Tom did not arouse her — he couldn't._ She had been turned on by him in the past, and he knew it — he could quite literally see it, that's what made the whole mess in the first place. She was sure that he wasn't turned on by her before she started having those thoughts, she provoked all of that into happening — it was all her fault.

 _Exactly_ , if she started it, she could end it. So, she tried. She didn't talk to him, even though she continued sitting next to him in class — because of her unconscious, horniness driven choice at the beginning of Fifth Year — she even ignored him when he said 'Hi' in the morning as she approached their desk. He didn't seem to mind much, he chuckled at it. 

_He was indeed the one who wanted her to stay away from him multiple times all over those years._

It was all going to plan. **Then** , she got some news.

It was a rainy February morning and she had been told by Felicity who had gone on a few dates with Tom by then that she wanted to ask him to be her proper boyfriend. A part of her _wanted_ to strangle Felicity when she said that, the other _wanted_ to laugh at her for thinking Tom would say yes and the other was _wondering_ why she even cared.

Anyway, she nodded and faked a smile.

* * *

** 25th February 1944 **

Jennifer closed her book angrily — she had been in that mood for a week or so. She denied that it was about Felicity confessing that she wanted to be Tom's girlfriend.

 _It was probably just her period._ It definitely wasn't her jealously of Tom and Felicity.

Tom, who was sitting next to her looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she angrily shoved her books into her bag. “If you try and put them calmly maybe they'll fit.”

She tried not to answer him, as she had successfully done over the weeks — just one-word answers and formal talks — but, she was in an awful mood. Even Willow had told her she was acting crazy-like. She continued shoving them in her bag.

“Did you hear me?” he asked. “Just try and —”

She turned to him and hissed, “shut the fuck up, you cunt.”

Tom gasped and his mouth remained wide as her cheeks didn't even get red over what she said. 

“If you worried about your perfect little life and _girlfriend_ , maybe I wouldn't call you that,” she replied before he could leave his state of shock.

The way his eyes widened would be funny to Jennifer if she wasn't fuming. “Wh — what?”

“You heard me,” she said as she started taking the books off her bag. 

“Felicity isn't my girlfriend, ” he stated.

She shrugged. “She's going to be. She wants to ask you out.”

He nodded. “Is that why you're angry?”

She looked at him to shot a glare. “I am not angry.”

He looked down and saw that her fingertips were white from how hard she was gripping the books. “Sure, ” he answered.

“And, why would you even care? I thought you were _I-don't-give-a-fuck-Tom_ , ” she harshly said as she tried to fit the books inside her bag.

He started collecting his things. “But, I don't. I don't care.”

“Then just have her as your girlfriend, marry her — whatever the fuck,” she said, still in a harsh tone.

“Are you ok, Jenny?” he asked as he put the lace of his bag over his shoulder.

She clenched her jaw. “Don't,” she gulped, “don't call me Jenny.” She knew she was exaggerating, but she felt that she had to make things _informal, not personal_. Every time they got too close, bad things happened ― she wasn't sure why, or she pretended not to. 

“Are you seriously going to be like that?” he asked with wide eyes.

She turned around and started walking away. Even though when they were close she felt angry, when they were apart she felt even **angrier**. She felt divided but decided to go the logical way.

“Call me _Riddle_ then,” he said as he followed her. There were few people in the classroom, they were starting to hear their conversation.

“You'd hate it,” she replied.

“More of a reason for your resentful _cunt_ self to do it,” he muttered as he passed by her. 

She gasped as she stopped walking. “You're fucking impossible!”

_He really was, but she couldn't help but to want him more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can things get worst? Will Jennifer and Tom come to an agreement?


End file.
